


Derek's Baby Boy

by GentlyWithAChainsaw



Series: Derek's Baby Boy [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Creeper Peter, Daddy Derek, Diapers, Drugging, Dubious Consent, Forced Ageplay, Hand Jobs, Infantilism, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Stockholm Syndrome, baby stiles, bottles, non-con infantilism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyWithAChainsaw/pseuds/GentlyWithAChainsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where werewolves live in secret and have humans provided for their every wish, Stiles is taken to become Derek's baby boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because this fandom needs more infantilism fics.  
> This is non-con infantilism. Non-sexual, but there is unwelcome touching during a diaper change.

Stiles leaves the bar weaving, face set with determination as he points his feet towards home. Really, he should have this “getting home impossibly trashed” thing down by now. He’s finally found a fake ID that works and he’s used it every night for the past week. Overused it, probably, but what the hell, he’s young. It’s almost a shame that he’ll be legal in a few months and won’t need it anymore. 

He’s so focused on not throwing up as he tries to make his way down the sidewalk that he stops paying attention to where he’s going and suddenly blinks at his surroundings to find he’s wandered down some filthy alley. 

Whoopies. 

He uses the brick wall to get himself turned around, only to find two men in black coats standing right behind him. _Shit_. Cops? If they ask for his ID he’s screwed. 

“Lost?” one asks pleasantly. 

“Nah, just…heading home.” He tries to sound sober and fails miserably. “Excuse me.” 

The one who’d spoken grabs his arm as he tries to pass and Stiles flails, losing his balance and nearly going down. “Oh, little one,” the man says, voice gentle. “You’re a mess, aren’t you?” 

Stiles blinks. _Little one?_ What the hell? 

“Let’s get you out of here, poor thing.” The man puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and something pricks his neck, making him jerk. It’s all happening so fast; he doesn’t understand… 

“What’s happ’ning?” he slurs, feeling his legs give out. The men are practically carrying him, bundling him inside a warm car. 

“Nothing to worry about.” A soothing hand strokes his cheek; the last thing he feels. “You’re going to be just fine, sweet little boy.” 

X 

Derek takes one last look around the nursery. Everything is perfect. He’s painted the walls a gentle shade of blue, a nice calm color for when his baby is agitated. The oversize crib, dressers, and changing table are ready and waiting. He opens a drawer to run his hand over soft folded onesies. 

The pack, he knows, is amused by the almost obsessive way he’s been preparing. They were all stunned at the very idea of him taking a baby through the Society’s adoption process— “You know you can’t kill it when it misbehaves, right?” Erica had jeered before she realized Derek was serious. 

They don’t get it. Derek has worked very, very hard not to hate humans after what they did to his family. He understands now that humans are weak, simple things that lash out at what they fear. They should be controlled, but controlled doesn’t mean eradicated. 

The Society understands that. They take humans of all ages and provide them for whatever purpose werewolves might want— beloved pets, cherished babies, even slaves. In Derek’s community, where only werewolves live, he’s seen humans used to fit all kind of roles. 

And now it’s his turn. He smiles as he shuts off the light, imagining how sweet it will be when he can finally strap his little one down into the crib and turn on the night-lights so it won’t be afraid. He’s waited for so long, but the day is finally here. 

Tomorrow he’ll have his baby in his arms. 

X 

There’s nothing Marin likes more than preparing the new babies for their adoptions. Marin hums slightly under her breath as she looks over the little ones that have just been flown in. There are medicated patches on their necks, keeping them slumbering until they’ve been chosen. They’re difficult enough to prepare without being awake and fussy. 

She undresses and washes them, applying plenty of cream and powder so their skin will be perfectly smooth. She has the hair removal treatment down to a science and rids them of that unsightly body hair quickly, giving them one more rinse down once it’s done. She needs a blood sample from each one but they’re too far under to react to the needle. Then she puts on their first diapers, nice puffy things that will be all they wear before they’re dressed in their first onesies by their Mommies and Daddies. 

She wraps each one in a blue or pink blanket, swaddling them tightly so the dear little things won’t be cold, before placing them in clear incubators that lock from the outside. That way, even if they somehow wake up, nobody has to worry about them trying to run around the halls. They’re wheeled one at a time into the large room that soon will be full of perusing customers. The halls are calm now, but in the morning they’ll be a madhouse. She’s looking forward to it. Adoption day is so much fun. 

One of the babies is whimpering a little, thrashing so fiercely he nearly manages to pop a fist out of his swaddling blanket, and she reaches inside the incubator to make sure his medicated path is on correctly. The baby’s face smooths out and he makes an absolutely adorable sound. “There you are, little one,” she coos, stroking his cheek with her finger. “Sweet dreams.” 

X 

Derek is jittery as he waits in the holding room for the nurse to come and fetch him. He’s paid top dollar to be the very first customer allowed in to look over the babies and it’ll be time any minute now. 

When a woman in a white dress finally opens the door he nearly explodes out of his seat. “Mr. Hale?” the woman says sweetly. “I’m Nurse Marin. Follow me.” 

He does, to a large room filled with incubators. His breath catches at the sight of the babies inside, adorably swaddled in blankets with hats on their heads. “You’re welcome to spend as much time as you like,” Marin tells him, unlocking the top of one of the incubators and carefully lifting out a sleeping girl. “They won’t wake up. Would you like to hold her?” 

He nods and she transfers the girl into his arms. She’s light as a feather against his strength, face smooth in sleep. She’s so sweet that he almost just chooses her right there, but he knows he should be discerning. Make sure he’s picking exactly the right baby. After a few moments rocking the little girl he reluctantly hands her back to Marin, who puts her into her incubator. 

He walks up and down the rows, examining each baby. He reaches in to touch every one, asking Marin to lift out those that look especially sweet. He’s starting to despair at the idea of choosing between them when he comes to a little boy, so pale, mouth hanging open. He immediately wants to slip a pacifier past those lips or tickle the boy’s tummy until he’s giggling. 

“I want to hold this one.” 

Marin lifts him out obligingly and settles him into Derek’s arms. He’s a warm, soft bundle, long-limbed enough that his swaddled feet hang over Derek’s arms. He smells soft and powdery and his little face is so innocent. Derek can imagine rocking him to sleep in the chair he has set up in the nursery, or watching him play on the mat in the living room. He’s perfect. “This one,” Derek says, unable to take his eyes away from the baby’s face. _Love at first sight_. He’d thought it was too corny to be true. “I want this one.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Marin smiles and reaches over to carefully peel away the patch on the boy’s neck, replacing it quickly with a bandage. “That kept a low-grade anesthetic in his bloodstream. He should wake up any moment so he can meet his Daddy.” She slides an overlarge pacifier into his open mouth, strapping it around his head so he can’t spit it out. “He’ll be fussy, so it’s good to have that on hand.” 

Derek rocks the baby, trying not to puff up with happiness at the word _Daddy_. Sure enough it only takes a few minutes before the baby’s face is wrinkling, mouth forming a little moue as he tries to gets his bearings. “Hello there,” Derek says softly, trying to keep up a soothing rocking pace. He'd gone through hours and hours of training with Society reps to make sure his baby's first few days would be as easy as possible and he knows these first few moments of his little boy's new life are crucial. “You want to say hi to Daddy?” 

His baby squints up at him, adorably bewildered. Derek smiles and presses little kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. He can feel his little boy wriggling against him, trying to work his pacifier out of his mouth. “Sh, baby,” Derek croons. “Daddy’s here.” 

X 

Stiles has no fucking idea what’s going on. 

A strange man is holding him as though he weighs nothing, beaming down at him like he’s a little puppy or something. “Daddy’s here,” the man coos, a warm hand stroking Stiles’ cheek. Stiles wants to scream at him to put him down, but there’s something strapped into his mouth and he can’t get it out. He’s wrapped in a blanket, so tightly he can’t even get his arms free. 

“Let’s get him checked out, Mr. Hale,” a soft voice says. The man— Mr. Hale— smiles reassuringly at Stiles and starts to walk with him. Stiles panics, thinking the man is bound to drop him, but he doesn’t. He’s _freaky_ strong. 

Suddenly he’s being laid down on some kind of hard surface and unwrapped by a woman. He’s not wearing any clothes, but there’s something around his ass, something kind of soft and thick. The woman puts her hand over his swaddled crotch as though she’s checking to see if it’s wet. “What a little cutie you are,” the woman says. “Come take a look at him, Mr. Hale.” 

The man’s face pops back into Stiles’ line of vision. Warm fingers scrunch playfully over his belly and Stiles wiggles frantically, but he’s too sluggish to really move. “He’s perfect,” Mr. Hale says happily. 

“You can get him dressed.” 

“Look what Daddy has for you,” the man says to Stiles, shaking out an oversize onesie. Stiles can’t move as he’s dressed in it, the man snapping it closed over his belly and between his legs. The man lifts each of his hands and puts on mittens, pulling a little drawstring so they’re on tightly. “All finished!” the man says to him in a high, babyish voice. 

Stiles thinks he might burst into hysterical laughter. This is insane. It has to be a joke, right? This dude— this _incredibly good-looking dude_ — is the host of some kind of gotcha show. There are probably cameras over him right now catching everything. He tries to bat Mr. Hale away so he can sit up but it only prompts a chorus of _awws_ from Mr. Hale and the woman, who seem to think his struggles are the most adorable thing ever. 

Mr. Hale picks him up again, cuddling him close. The woman is writing something on a little certificate, which she sticks to the front of a cot with raised sides. It’s some type of nametag decorated with little cartoon clouds and rainbows: **Hi! My name is _Stiles_ and my _Daddy_ is _Derek Hale_**. 

How do they know his name? His fake ID had said something else… 

Mr. Hale— _Derek_ \--puts him onto the cot and he’s wheeled down a hall into another room, this one small and pastel-painted. “You two bond,” the woman says cheerfully. “The doctor will give your little one a proper examination just as soon as all the adoptions are finished. Diapers are over here, bottles in the minifridge, and just press the call button if you need anything.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

Stiles tries to struggle again when he’s lifted out of the cot by Derek, but it’s pointless. He would be too weak to fight a kitten right now, let alone the Incredible Hulk here. Derek smiles and sits in a rocking chair with him. “I know everything’s so scary and new right now,” he coos. “But Daddy is going to take such good care of you. Once the doctor makes sure you’re all healthy we’re going to fly in a big, big plane and go home, where Daddy has lots of nice toys for you...” 

Stiles hears _plane_ and freaks out, getting enough strength in his limbs to punch Derek in the chest with his mitten-covered hands. Derek only chuckles as if he felt nothing and pushes Stiles’ hands down. “No hitting, little one, that’s not nice.” 

Stiles tries to plead with him but with the huge pacifier in his mouth all that comes out is incomprehensible noises, sounding like baby babbles even to his own ears. Derek’s expression is downright moony, like Stiles is just too cute, and he squeezes Stiles close to his chest as he rocks back and forth. The motion is instinctively soothing and Stiles can feel himself calming down. He can’t panic. He has to find a way out of here. 

“Daddy’s special boy must be hungry,” Derek coos, and Stiles is being lifted again. He keeps thinking he’s going to fall and he burrows into Derek’s chest in terror, but Derek doesn’t drop him. “Let’s see here…I don’t think we need your sleepytime milk yet; that’s for when you need your nap. Here’s a nice full bottle for my baby.” He shifts Stiles’ weight to one arm so he can take a bottle out of the minifridge. When they get back to the rocking chair Derek carefully unstraps the pacifier from around Stiles’ head. 

It’s such a relief to be free of it that he wastes precious seconds gasping for air. “Wait,” he croaks when Derek raises the nipple of the bottle to his lips. “Please let me go, please…” 

Derek frowns at him. It changes his face completely, making him look absolutely _terrifying_ , and Stiles shrinks back. “No, Stiles. Big-boy sounds aren’t allowed. Don’t make Daddy punish you already.” 

It’s the first time Derek has used his name, and that, along with the word _punish_ , has tears springing to Stiles’ eyes. Derek immediately softens at the sight of them. “Oh, little one. It’s all right. Daddy will never punish his little prince for not knowing the rules. But now you know, so no more big-boy words. Daddy knows what you need, you don’t have to tell me.” Derek gently pushes the bottle’s nipple into his mouth. “Drink your milk.” 

The milk, or whatever it is, is heavy and grainy, and tastes like there’s some kind of artificial sweetener in it. He doesn’t like it, but Derek has the bottle tilted so all he can do is swallow each mouthful until the bottle is empty. 

“Such a good boy!” Derek lifts him so he’s half-sitting, then pats his back rhythmically until Stiles burps. It’s so humiliating that tears are in his eyes again, but Derek just keeps praising him as he snuggles Stiles into another embrace. He pokes the pacifier back into Stiles’ mouth and Stiles is too stunned to resist. 

Derek starts rocking him again, talking all the while about the nursery he has set up for his beautiful boy, and the toys Stiles can play with, and all the nice aunts and uncles he’s going to meet once he’s home. “Uncle Peter has a little puppy dog. Does my baby like puppies?” 

Stiles blinks warily at him. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to communicate at all, or if that’s considered a “big-boy” action, so he decides to test the waters by nodding. 

Derek’s face breaks out into a radiant smile. “Yeah? Then Daddy will make sure Uncle Peter brings his puppy over to play.” 

So nodding is okay. Good to know. He isn’t sure how that knowledge is going to help him escape but he has to find out exactly what the rules are here if he ever wants to get away. 

Derek keeps talking and rocking, but Stiles is distracted by a sudden, familiar feeling. He needs to piss. He wriggles uncomfortably, trying to get into a position that isn’t putting pressure on his bladder, but Derek is holding him too tightly. He whimpers. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Derek stops rocking and peers down at him. 

Stiles pleads with him silently, still wiggling in his lap. Derek’s look of confusion turns to understanding. “Does my little boy have to use his diaper?” 

No. _Fuck_ no. He’s not pissing himself. He puts everything he has into his struggles, throwing himself back and forth to get himself free, but Derek only hushes him and hugs him closer. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, that’s what it’s there for. Go ahead and then Daddy will make you all nice and clean.” 

He tries to get a scream out around the pacifier, but it’s too big. 

“My poor baby. Daddy will help you.” Much to Stiles’ horror Derek puts his hand on Stiles’ stomach and presses down insistently. Stiles tries to clench his legs together, but the diaper is keeping them splayed. No, no _no_ , he doesn’t want to piss himself … 

“Sh,” Derek croons. “It’s okay, baby boy. Won’t it feel nice to have all that yucky pressure out of your tummy? Daddy will change you right away and give you a big kiss for being so brave.” 

Stiles tries to hold it off, but Derek keeps pressing down, and he feels the diaper grow warm and heavy as the pressure in his bladder diminishes. At the same time he finally bursts into tears, sobbing hysterically as Derek stands and gives him the promised big kiss on his cheek. 

“You did so good, sweetheart, Daddy is so proud of you. Now let’s get you all clean.” 

He’s plunked down on a changing table and strapped down by the waist and upper chest so he can’t move. Derek undoes the snaps of the onesie and strips off the wet diaper, smiling reassuringly down at Stiles. There are baby wipes on the table and he grabs one, wiping Stiles off— touching him _everywhere_. Stiles can’t stop crying as Derek cleans him. He can feel Derek putting powder on him, hands gentle, and he goes completely still, as if that could stop it from happening. 

“And now a fresh diaper for my baby…” Derek tapes up the sides. “There! All done!” He bends to smack a kiss right on Stiles’ stomach. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

Stiles nods again, still sobbing so hard he can barely see. Derek _awws_ and picks him up, cradling him so his head is in Derek’s shoulder. “I know it’s scary,” he says kindly. “But soon it will just be routine. This is the way things are now, little boy. Daddy is going to take care of you forever and ever.” 

Stiles keeps crying while Derek sits back in the rocking chair and wipes his face with a tissue. It’s been a long time since anyone has held Stiles close, and despite everything Derek’s warm chest feels good. Eventually Stiles’ sobs taper off into sniffles and Derek kisses the top of his head. They stay like that for a while, rocking back and forth, while Derek murmurs over and over what a good little baby Stiles is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey some people actually liked this! That's good! (I was kind of expecting to get run out of town tbh)  
> In the beginning of this bit Stiles gets a shot that keeps werewolves from smelling him and another shot that causes incontinence which I guess could be considered non-con body mod so just be aware of that

Derek can hardly believe how adorable his little boy is. Stiles cries himself out in Derek’s lap, face buried into his chest as Derek rubs his back and whispers soothingly to him. Even when the baby has stopped crying he still clings to Derek as if he’s scared of falling. He’s absolutely perfect. 

His packmates are texting him frantically, asking for an update, and just to shut them up he snaps a picture of Stiles with his phone and sends it before pointedly turning his phone off. This time is for him and his baby to bond. The pack can meet Stiles later. 

Stiles has finally calmed down when there’s a knock on the door and Marin sticks her head inside. “The doctor is all ready for you,” she says, beaming at Stiles. 

The words scare the baby and he tries to struggle away again, but his crying jag has tired him out and Derek gets him onto the cot without much difficulty. Marin wheels him down the hall and Derek walks alongside so Stiles can see him, smiling down at him reassuringly. It’s important for his baby to rely on him for comfort during these first stressful days. 

“Who’s this little boy?” the doctor says cheerfully when they enter his office. Derek lifts Stiles from the cot and lays him down on the examination table, stroking his forehead gently. 

“This is Stiles.” 

“Stiles!” The doctor flicks through his files until he finds the right one. “Let’s see here. His blood test came back clean, so that’s good. He has ADHD, so expect him to be a little less focused than you might have trained for. Here’s his full file— make sure you read it sometime when he’s napping.” 

Derek can see Stiles’ eyes widen at the size of the file they have on him. 

“Now, let’s talk about his shots. We recommend the full set, but we know some people like to do things naturally. Do you have a preference?” 

Derek nods. He’s familiar with all the shots the Society offers and his mind is made up. “Just the B-8 and the scent blocker for now.” 

“You’re sure? The other shots can really help your little boy regress…” 

“I’m sure.” He doesn’t need shots to keep Stiles from walking or talking, he’d rather do all that naturally. The B-8 is to keep Stiles from getting sick, and the scent reducer is for his protection— it will keep him from smelling like a human, like _prey_ to a shifted werewolf. A necessity for any human living in a werewolf community. 

“Okay, then.” The doctor gets the syringes. Derek can hear Stiles’s heartrate speeding up in terror and he lifts him up from the table, cradling him on his lap. “It’s all right, little guy,” the doctor says gently. “I know shots are no fun, but it’ll be over quick.” He sits down and raises the first syringe. “Now, the B-8 will cause incontinence, but it’s not foolproof, so monitor his diaper changes to make sure he’s going enough. It has to be renewed every six months so keep that in mind if you ever plan to potty train. Hold him still.” 

Stiles struggles, but Derek stays firm. “It’s okay,” he croons directly into Stiles’s ear. “It’s just to make sure you go potty and don’t get aches in your little tummy. Daddy would never give you something that would hurt you.” 

Stiles whines around his pacifier as the doctor depresses the plunger. Derek immediately takes the pain, kissing Stiles on the top of his head. “All done, baby. You did so well.” 

“Now the scent blocker. This will only hide his scent from shifted werewolves.” 

Stiles is so stunned at the word _werewolves_ he forgets to fight. Derek holds him tightly anyway, rocking him a little as the doctor gives him the shot. 

“There we go! Now I’m sure you’ve heard all about muscular atrophy, but let’s just go over the stretches…” the doctor keeps talking to Derek and Derek nods along, stroking Stiles’ back soothingly. He’s ready to take his little boy home and it’s a relief when the doctor finishes his spiel and waves them out. 

“We just need to wait a little bit to make sure he doesn’t react negatively to his shots,” Marin tells him. “You can call your pilot and tell him to refuel. Should I send for the car in an hour?” 

“Make it two.” He hoists Stiles onto his hip. “I think I’ll put the baby down for a nap in my room first and pack everything up.” 

“Great. It was a pleasure taking care of you, Mr. Hale.” Marin waggles Stiles’ foot. “You too, buddy!” 

Stiles shoots her a look of pure loathing. 

Derek walks Stiles to his room quickly, not really interested in meeting any other new Daddies and babies in the hall. The Society put all the customers in lovely hotel-esque rooms equipped with cribs and changing tables— it had been difficult to sleep last night knowing the babies were so close and Derek smiles when he unlocks his door and carries Stiles inside. This beautiful little boy is all his now. 

“You had such a big day today,” he says gently. “How about we both take a little nap so we’re all ready to go home? Hm? Does my baby think he can sleep?” 

Stiles stares at him for a moment and then nods slowly. Derek grins and kisses him. Positive reinforcement is crucial. “Good boy! Let’s get you in your crib.” 

Stiles makes a tiny whimpering sound when Derek lowers him into the oversize crib and kisses the top of his head. Just like the crib at home, this one has bars that cover the top and lock shut, giving it the unfortunate appearance of a cage. Derek puts the cover on but doesn’t lock it. “It’s all right,” he says, stretching his hand through the bars when he sees Stiles’ eyes widen. “It’s just so my little baby doesn’t do something silly and get hurt. Daddy will be right here if you need anything.” 

He backs away when he’s sure Stiles isn’t going to panic and kicks off his shoes before sitting on his own bed and grabbing Stiles’ file. Time to find out a little more about his baby. 

X 

So Stiles is pretty sure this isn’t all an elaborate joke. 

Apparently everyone here is just insane. 

Not only does Derek think he’s Stiles’ father, but he also thinks werewolves exist. Stiles spares an uneasy thought to how strong everyone here is, seeing as they can lug Stiles around like he weighs nothing, but he shakes it off. He can’t start believing _anything_ these freaks say if he wants to escape. 

And he has to escape _now_ , before Derek gets him on a plane and takes him somewhere. 

He peers out through the slats of his crib. He’d pretended to go to sleep about twenty minutes ago, shutting his eyes and breathing heavily, but Derek is still awake, reading though the file the doctor had given him. Stiles shuts his eyes again and waits until he hears papers stop flipping. He cracks open one eye and sees that Derek has his head tilted back, file forgotten by his side. His eyes are closed. 

Stiles counts to sixty, and when Derek doesn’t move he wiggles his hands out of the mittens and pulls the stupid pacifier off his head. The crib is so huge that he has to get on his knees to get the cover up. The bars clatter as he pushes it and he freezes, afraid Derek will wake up. 

Nope. The man just snores slightly and turns over. 

Stiles exhales and pushes the cover the rest of the way off. It’s hard climbing over the side of the crib— he’s still fighting his earlier drugging, and his arms and legs are a little weak. He hits the ground hard and lies there for a second, winded. 

He’ll have to crawl for the door. He starts moving, digging his elbows into the carpet to gain traction. He just has to get to a staircase or something and find people who aren’t in on this whole thing. If only he wasn’t wearing a onesie and a diaper right now… 

He reaches the door and stretches up to grab the knob. 

“Where do you think you’re going, little boy?” 

He doesn’t even have time to turn before Derek is scooping him off the ground. Stiles goes for his eyes, trying to claw at them with his now-uncovered nails, but Derek just chuckles and pins his arms close to his chest. 

Fuck it. Stiles lets out an ear-shattering scream in the hopes that someone might be around to hear. 

“Shouting hurts my ears,” Derek says mildly as he carries Stiles over to the bed. 

“Let me go! Let _go_ , you freak!” Stiles kicks frantically. “Fuck you, asshole, put me _down!_ ” 

“My, my. Who taught my baby all those nasty words?” Derek is incredibly unflappable as he sits down and wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist, trapping his hands. Stiles tries to keep kicking but it isn’t doing shit and eventually he stops, collapsing against Derek in exhaustion. 

“There we go. Are you all finished with your tantrum?” 

Hatred wells up inside Stiles. “Fuck you,” he hisses. 

Derek sighs. He sounds almost disappointed. “Here Daddy thought you were being such so well behaved and you could have big-boy privileges. I guess you want a spanking instead.” 

Stiles freezes. He remembers what Derek said about punishment. A guy this strong could knock Stiles out cold with one swing, and then he has _no_ chance of getting out of here. He’s torn between trying to fight his way out again and playing along so Derek thinks he’s contrite. 

“Here’s what I think,” Derek says softly. “I think my little boy is just very overwhelmed, and probably sleepy, and he didn’t know what he was doing. Hm? Am I right?” 

Stiles nods frantically. He presses his face into Derek’s chest, hating himself for playing along but desperate to avoid getting spanked. 

“Daddy will help.” Derek lays him down on the bed and steps away. Stiles tenses, wondering if punishment is coming after all, but when Derek returns he’s only holding another baby bottle. “This will make you feel all better.” 

He props Stiles up and feeds him the bottle. Stiles doesn’t fight it, even though it’s humiliating, but as he drinks he realizes it tastes different from the last one. Sort of bitter. He lets out a little whine and tries to move his head away, but Derek hushes him and presses the nipple into his mouth, keeping it there until the bottle is empty. 

“There we go.” Derek rests Stiles’ head on Derek’s chest, so he can hear the thumping of Derek’s heart. “Daddy read your file,” Derek says gently. “My poor little prince was all alone out there in the big world. Nobody to take care of you, a job just to pay the bills, living in a filthy city where you probably would have ended up a druggie or dead in an alley…” 

Stiles scowls. Sure, his life wasn’t perfect, but it was still his _life_. Derek doesn’t get to take it from him just because he wasn’t living the dream. 

“Now Daddy is going to make sure you’re never alone again. You’ll always be so safe, and have a nice full belly, and hugs and kisses whenever you want them. Why are you being silly and trying to fight that, sweetheart?” 

Stiles wants to answer, to plead with Derek that what he’s doing is crazy, but he can’t get his mouth to move right. He frowns. Why is the room spinning? Why does he feel so… 

_The milk_. Hadn’t Derek said something about sleepytime milk? 

Damn it, Derek had drugged him again. 

He whimpers as Derek picks him up and carries him back over to the crib. “Sh, little one,” Derek whispers. “I think you need to stay like this until you know how to behave.” 

Stiles tries to grab on to Derek to keep himself from being put in the crib, but he only succeeds in grasping the front of Derek’s shirt and clinging to it just like a baby. Derek chuckles and untangles his fingers. “Night-night, baby boy.” 

The last thing Stiles feels is a soft kiss on his forehead. 

X 

Derek can’t help but feel a little sorry for his baby. He’d never stood a chance, seeing as how Derek had rigged the game. He’d known Stiles wasn’t really sleeping so he’d decided to fake sleep himself, just to see what Stiles would do. 

It had only been a matter of time before the baby did something that warranted his special milk. Derek is just glad it happened now, so Stiles will be largely out of it while they travel. It’ll make things much less of a hassle. 

He packs up the room quickly and puts together a diaper bag, figuring they’ll need at least one change on the plane. Eventually the bellhop arrives at his door to tell him that his car is ready. Derek lets him load up all the suitcases so he can lift his little boy out of the crib and carry him downstairs. 

The car the Society ordered is waiting out front. There’s a bag on the seat with the purchase Derek had asked for only an hour before and Derek smiles, sticking it in the diaper bag. He’ll give it to Stiles as soon as he wakes up. 

It’s not a long drive to the private helipad where Derek has his plane waiting. His pilot has already been called and nods to Derek before climbing into the cockpit. He bought a private plane years ago— there are some benefits to being the only survivor of a dynasty, after all— and he’s looking forward to taking Stiles up on it for day trips when the boy is a little more settled. 

Stiles stirs as Derek carries him onto the plane. He tries to mumble something but Derek has already put his pacifier back in. “It’s okay, baby,” Derek says gently. “We’re going home. Suck your pacifier, Daddy doesn’t want your ears to pop.” 

Stiles whimpers as the plane engine starts up. Derek reaches into his bag and pulls out the beautiful white Alsatian toy the Society had provided. He’s not sure how they managed to find such a high-end stuffed animal so quickly, but he supposes that’s why they charge so much. “Look what Daddy has for you, sweet boy.” 

Stiles blinks blearily at the stuffed animal. 

“A little doggie for my baby.” Derek puts it into Stiles’ arms. Stiles is so out-of-it that he only registers the soft fur and Derek watches happily as he nuzzles into it, hugging it around the neck. 

So adorable. 

Stiles drifts back off to sleep as the plane levels out and Derek leans back in his chair, keeping his baby snuggled on his lap. He’d read through Stiles’ entire file before the Great Escape antics and it had almost broken his heart. The poor boy had been all alone, coming out of the foster care system with almost no prospects. He was clearly smart, but he’d been reduced to menial work just to stay alive. He’d turned to alcohol as an escape from what little he had. The system had just started to slowly chew him up by the time the Society had found him. 

He’s safe now. He’s with Derek. He’s been _saved_. He might not be able to see that yet, but soon he will. 

Derek is an Alpha. He’s supposed to take care of people. But his packmates are old and don’t need him the way he has to be needed. Stiles will be relying on Derek for everything, food and clothing and affection, and Derek just wants to give him the _world_ to make him happy. 

Stiles starts getting a little fussy just as the plane starts its descent and Derek quickly feeds him another bottle, tipping it upright so Stiles will gulp down the formula as he’s still half-asleep. 

It’s a relief to touch down on his home soil. He carries Stiles out to his own car, which he’d left parked at the hanger yesterday morning. He’s already installed Stiles’ car seat in the back. It’s the work of moments to strap him in, keeping his puppy tightly in his arms. It’s dark outside and Derek drives home slowly, enjoying the sight of Stiles sleeping away in his rearview mirror. 

He’d made it clear to the pack that they were not allowed to wait at his house for him, since a crowd would overwhelm his little boy, and it’s a relief to see that they’ve followed the rules. There is a Welcome Home banner hanging up, but he just rolls his eyes at it and carries Stiles upstairs to the nursery. 

The shots are working, he notes with satisfaction when he strips off Stiles’s onesie and sees he’s wet his diaper again. Derek changes him quickly and dresses him in footie pajamas before laying him down carefully in his crib. This time he locks the crib cover— he hates to think of Stiles doing something silly again and earning himself a worse punishment. He switches on the baby monitor and gives Stiles one last fond look before backing out of the room slowly. 

X 

It’s like Stiles can’t wake up. 

He keeps drifting, swimming up to surface every so often only to feel a rubbery nipple and cool liquid in his mouth, and then he’s under again. 

He vaguely senses things going on around him— a deep voice whispering nice things to him, someone carrying him from room to room, cold cream being rubbed onto his lower body— but no matter how hard he tries he can’t actually _do_ anything. 

It’s awful. _Awful_. 

At some point he surfaces to lots of voices all jabbering around him. “— can’t even believe how cute he is,” an unfamiliar voice says. He’s being jiggled against someone’s chest and it makes him feel sick to his stomach. “Look at all his freckles!” 

It’s a woman holding him. When she bounces him close to her he can smell her perfume, thick and flowery and cloying. He tries to rear away from her, whimpering as best he can. He doesn’t like this. “Uh-oh,” the woman says. “Someone’s getting fussy. Derek, you want him?” 

Stiles can feel himself being transferred and it’s _scary_ , he’s going to fall and hit his head against the floor. He desperately grabs on to the shirt of the person taking him. It’s a relief to be away from the woman’s perfume, and this chest is warm and familiar, and he doesn’t want to fall, so he burrows in, going quiet as he slowly calms down. 

“Oh, Derek.” The woman sounds like she might cry. “Look how much he loves his Daddy already!” 

Derek kisses Stiles’ forehead gently. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and waits to go under again. He doesn’t want all these people to see him like this. 

“Holy shit,” another female voice says. “Look at Derek smiling. I didn’t know your face could do that, you big softy.” 

In response Derek makes a sound Stiles has never heard before, a deep snarling in his chest that Stiles could only term a wolf growl. It triggers something instinctual in Stiles and he tries to get away, whimpering frantically since he can’t scream. 

“Oh, now look what you did,” Derek accuses the woman, holding Stiles tighter. “Sh, sweetheart, Daddy didn’t mean to scare you. Daddy would never, ever hurt his baby boy. Kira, can you grab me a bottle?” 

Moments later the bottle is being poked into his mouth. This time he sucks gratefully. He’d rather be asleep. 

The next time he wakes up he’s alone. It’s dark, but after he blinks a few times he can see he’s in another crib. There are bars on top, just like last time. He’s not sure how long ago that was. It could be weeks for all he knows. 

There’s a big stuffed animal in the crib with him, a white dog, and Stiles finds himself hugging it. He thinks he might panic. How is he ever going to get out of here? 

He pushes at the cover on top of the crib, but just as he suspects it doesn’t budge. Even if it did he has no clue where he is…and Derek seems to have friends here who might come after him…and it’s dark and he’s alone and he’s _scared_ … 

Just like that he finds himself crying helplessly, squeezing the stuffed animal tightly as if that could calm him down. His tears become gulping sobs and within minutes he hears running footsteps heading his way. The door opens and light from the hallway spills in. “Oh, baby,” a voice croons, and the cover of the crib lifts so Derek can pull him out. Stiles clings to the dog. “Sh, sweetheart, Daddy’s here. Did you have a scary dream? Daddy will make it all better.” 

“No more!” Stiles whines. He knows he isn’t supposed to talk, but he can’t bear another bottle of knockout juice. “P-please…Daddy. No milk.” His voice comes out high and childish due to his tears and fright, but Derek clearly finds it endearing. 

“No, my little prince. No more milk. Daddy thinks you can behave yourself enough that you can be awake.” Derek sits down with him in a rocking chair. “Am I right, sweetheart? Will you follow the rules for Daddy?” 

Stiles nods. He’s still crying, but the promise that he can stay awake is calming him down a little. 

“We’ve already talked about Rule One. No big-boy words. I’ll forgive what just happened because you’re a little out-of-sorts, but no more. I’m going to make a special rule for naughty language— if you use it, you’ll have two punishments, for breaking the first rule and for saying swear words. Rule Three is no hitting. I don’t ever want you trying to fight me. Daddy is very, very strong compared to you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you accidentally. Do you understand? You can nod and shake your head to say yes and no.” 

Stiles nods his head slowly. 

“Good boy!” Derek kisses his cheek. “The fourth rule is that you aren’t allowed to touch your private parts. That means no reaching into your diaper. You’ll only make a mess, and little boys shouldn’t be touching themselves in a naughty way. Now, Daddy has to touch your private parts during diaper changes and I don’t want to hear any whining about it.” 

Stiles feels himself shaking and Derek takes the stern expression off his face. “You’re doing so well, baby boy, I’m just telling you the rules so you know right from wrong. The last rule is that you don’t walk anywhere on your own. Daddy or one of your friends will carry you. Maybe, _maybe_ , when you’ve shown me what a good boy you can be we’ll work on crawling, but until then you’re too little to be running around by yourself. Daddy will spank you or take away toys and privileges when you break the rules. But no matter how often I have to punish you, I will always, always love my little boy more than anything in the world.” 

Stiles tries to keep the incredulous expression at _that_ nonsense off his face, but he must fail miserably, because Derek chuckles at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I love my special boy and I always will. Now, how about we get some breakfast in your tummy?” 

Stiles swallows hard as Derek carries him downstairs. Derek is so nice to him most of the time that he could almost delude himself that escaping might be easy. But he remembers the way Derek had frowned at him, and the easy way he carries Stiles around, and that _growl_ , and he knows Derek Hale is no softy. 

But Stiles has to find a way past his defenses. Somehow, he has to find a way to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's anything you want to see happen here! I don't exactly have like a "plot" so always happy to take suggestions.


	3. Chapter 3

This is the first time Stiles has really gotten a chance to see where he’s being held and he’s wide-eyed as Derek carries him downstairs. 

It’s a nice house. Kind of big for just one person, and simplistically decorated, but it reminds Stiles of the kind of woodsy, rich-person vacation lodges he’s seen on TV. They pass a living room, where Stiles can see what looks like some kind of big baby play mat on the floor. He shudders. 

The kitchen is huge, stocked with appliances Stiles doesn’t even have names for, but his attention goes right to the high chair set up at the table. 

He goes completely stiff. Derek feels it and turns a stern eye to him, taking the stuffed puppy Stiles is still clutching and sticking it under his arm. “Breakfast can go one of two ways, little boy. You can sit in your high chair and Daddy will make you some yummy rice pudding. Or, if you’re not big enough for that yet, you can sit on Daddy’s lap and have another bottle of formula.” 

Stiles’ brain kind of short-circuits as Derek starts to lower him into the high chair. He wants real food desperately, but the high chair has a little tray that will cage him in, and it’s humiliating just _looking_ at it. He struggles against Derek, on the edge of shouting at him, and Derek immediately whisks him away. 

“Okay. If that’s what you want.” 

Stiles immediately feels like an idiot. If he wants to get enough strength back to escape, he can’t just be subsisting on a liquid diet. He tries to act apologetic, whimpering and rubbing his cheek pleadingly against Derek’s shoulder, but Derek just chuckles and pats his diapered bottom. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Your formula will be just fine. Here, hold your doggy again.” 

He’s able to shift Stiles’ weight over to his right side so he can prepare the bottle with his other hand. Stiles tries to see exactly what he’s putting in it, but he goes too fast, shaking it up and putting it in a little bottle warmer thing. “This won’t make you sleepy,” he says, bouncing Stiles a little on his hip while they wait. “But you have to drink all of it so you’ll be my healthy boy.” 

The appliance beeps and Derek grabs the bottle before walking Stiles out of the kitchen and into the living room. “We’ll spend our afternoon-time in here,” he says as he sits down on the couch, snuggling Stiles into his lap. “Daddy doesn’t like TV very much, but when you’re extraordinarily good you can watch some Thomas or Dora. And this is where Daddy meets with his friends when we have pack meetings.” 

Stiles can’t resist the _are-you-shitting-me_ look he just has to give Derek at that. It makes Derek chuckle again— Stiles is really starting to hate that sound— as he holds the bottle to Stiles’ lips. “Come on, baby boy, I know you’re too smart not to realize what Daddy and his friends are. There’s no reason to be scared, nobody here would ever hurt you. Maybe in a little while I’ll show you what I look like in my wolf form.” 

_Freak_. Stiles is starving, so he drinks from the bottle unhappily. It tastes so bland that he just wants to get it over with. The next time he’s offered the high chair he has to take it. 

“That’s my good boy,” Derek says. He pats Stiles’ back until he burps, then cuddles with him on the couch for a few minutes. His hand rubs a gentle circle on Stiles’s stomach, right over the edge of the diaper. With his stomach full and the soft onesie, it feels really, really good and Stiles finds himself closing his eyes to better enjoy it. “Daddy’s so happy to have his beautiful little boy here with him,” Derek says softly. 

Stiles scowls. Derek doesn’t really care about him. He’s just like the evil foster mom Stiles had back in fourth grade, who would spend hours cuddling him or promising to take him on elaborate vacations or ask him to circle Christmas gifts he wanted out of a mail-in catalogue, just to laugh at him when he went for a hug the next day or put on his jacket for their trip or came downstairs to nothing on Christmas morning. Pretending to be affectionate all so she could hurt him. He’d fallen for it _every damn time_ when he was a kid, but not anymore. 

He pushes Derek’s hand away from his stomach and Derek doesn’t fight him, just gets up from the couch and carries him from the room. As they switch position Stiles realizes his bladder is starting to feel a little full, but before he can even start to worry he feels himself _go_. The diaper immediately gets soggy and his jaw drops. The stuffed dog falls to the floor. 

That shot— the one the doctor said would make him incontinent— he’d thought it was just another example of their craziness. He hadn’t thought it was actually _real_. 

“Good timing!” Derek says cheerfully, heading for the stairs again. “Let’s get you changed and dressed for the day.” 

Stiles is too stunned to respond. He’d pissed himself just like that. Before he could even try to hold it in. The diaper feels _awful_ and he reaches down, desperate to get it off, but Derek gently moves his hands away. “Remember what we talked about, baby? Only Daddy touches your diaper.” 

The sudden hatred Stiles feels knows no bounds or sense and he does the only thing he can think to do: he punches Derek across the jaw with as much force as he can muster. 

It feels like he breaks his damn hand and Derek doesn’t even flinch. 

“Remember what _else_ we talked about? No hitting. _Ever_.” 

“I hate you,” Stiles says. He doesn’t even know when he started crying. “I hate you, I hate you, I _fucking hate you_ …” 

“Well, we’re just _shattering_ the rules, aren’t we? You’re lucky I’m giving you _lots_ of leeway today.” Derek ducks into a bathroom, pulls something out of his pocket, and rinses it off. Stiles is so busy fighting him he doesn’t realize what it is until it’s already in his mouth: that damn pacifier. Derek has it strapped around his head in a flash, sedating his tongue and making it impossible to speak. He settles for a muffled scream of fury. 

Derek carries him back into the nursery and straps him down to the changing table. He takes off the diaper and now Stiles is _cold_ and he just _hates Derek so much_. Derek grabs wipes and cleans Stiles off, even his penis and his balls, before grabbing cream. He doesn’t linger on Stiles’ privates but nor does he spare them any attention. It’s almost a relief when he puts a new diaper under Stiles and does it up. 

“There we go,” he says softly. He brushes tears away from Stiles’s cheeks and waits for him to stop thrashing against the restraints. “All better.” 

Stiles gives up the struggling and just turns his head pointedly. Derek laughs at him. “I know, I know, I’m the meanest Daddy on earth for wanting to put you in a dry diaper. You’ll forgive me. Would my little boy like to pick out his clothes for the day?” 

Stiles scowls, annoyed that Derek isn’t taking him seriously. 

Derek bustles around the dresser before pulling out three new onesies. “We have one with kitties, and one with duckies, and one with shooting stars. Which one does my baby want? You can point.” 

Stiles doesn’t move. Maybe if he just refuses to play along at all Derek will get bored with him. 

“Well, Daddy likes the duckies.” Derek pulls the snaps of his onesie apart and takes it off, unstrapping Stiles from the changing table as he goes. Stiles crosses his arms in the hopes of keeping Derek from dressing him, but Derek easily moves them and puts him in the onesie decorated with ducks. “Now, since my little boy doesn’t know how to use his hands, he has to wear his mittens.” 

God, Stiles really hated those mittens. He hits out at Derek when he tries to put them on. Derek frowns at him, any softness fleeing his face. “Stiles, do you remember when I said I would take away privileges as a punishment? Being awake is a privilege. Daddy will get your special milk if you keep this up.” 

Stiles stops fighting. 

“That’s my good boy.” Derek puts the mittens on, then lifts Stiles, holding him around the waist so Stiles’ face is pressed against Derek’s shoulder. “Daddy wants his little boy to have nice days,” Derek says softly. “You didn’t get to have nice days for a long time, did you? You were out there all alone, struggling. No more struggling, sweetheart. You’re with me now.” 

The worst thing about the pacifier is that Stiles can’t get in the last word. Derek carries him out of the nursery and down the hall. They go into what must be Derek’s office— there’s a desk with a computer, and a stocked bookshelf. There’s also a playpen and what appears to be a huge bassinet, lacing around the sides and everything. 

“That’s where you’ve been sleeping for the past three days while Daddy worked,” Derek tells him. “Daddy was thinking you might be big enough to play in your playpen today, but that was a little too optimistic.” He grabs a folded blanket off the edge of his desk and puts it inside the bassinet. “Now, Daddy will be right here working while you rest.” 

He puts Stiles on top of the blanket and swaddles him tightly, so Stiles can’t even move his arms. There’s a mobile hanging off the top of the bassinet, with little prancing lambs, and Derek gives it a spin before moving to sit at his desk. 

Great. This is about the worst position he could be in right now— totally immobile, unable to speak, and only feet awake from Derek. 

He tries to wiggle his arms out but it’s impossible. He’s too keyed up to sleep, and after about an hour he’s so bored with just staring at the mobile that he wants to scream. He can hear Derek clacking the keys on his computer, absorbed with his work. 

Wait. Keys. _Computer._

It has to have internet. If Stiles can get to it, he could communicate with the outside world. 

He starts experimenting with what sounds he can make around the pacifier— groaning, snuffling, low muffled moans that get louder and louder. Eventually Derek stops typing and comes to stand over him. “Does someone want Daddy’s attention?” he coos, lifting Stiles out and squeezing him. 

Stiles nuzzles against him, hoping Derek thinks he’s enjoying the cuddles. 

“Aw, baby.” Derek starts to walk him over towards the computer, _yes._ “I know it was a scary morning for you. You’re my good boy.” He kisses the side of Stiles’ head and continues to walk him around the room. Stiles can see his desk— the internet is running, but his attention is caught by framed pictures facing him. One is of a group of people, with Derek in the middle. The other two are of _him_. In one of them he’s in the crib, eyes closed, and in the other Derek is holding him in the living room, smiling down at Stiles’ sleeping face. 

“Are you looking at your pictures?” Derek asks when he sees what’s caught Stiles’ eye. He takes a seat at the computer, sitting Stiles in his lap. “Your Auntie Kira took that one at your party the other day. You were a little too sleepy to say hello to everyone, but they were very happy to meet you. Do you want to see more pictures?” 

He minimizes the window he was looking at— his screensaver is a picture of Stiles too— and opens a photo sharing app. “These are Daddy’s packmates. They’re your friends. They’re— whoops, I didn’t fix the eyes. Let’s do that quick.” 

Stiles frowns. The eyes of the people in the pictures are flaring, so he can barely see their faces. Derek clicks a few buttons and it goes away. “That’s what happens to werewolves when they get their picture taken,” he explains. “But we have a special tool to get rid of it.” 

Jesus. He’s still on the werewolf thing. Stiles has to fight not to roll his eyes, but Derek notices his skepticism. “Want to see?” He grabs his cell phone and turns on the camera, raising it for a selfie of them both. “Smile, sweetheart.” 

When he shows Stiles the picture, sure enough, his eyes are flaring, while Stiles’ aren’t. Stiles shakes off his unease. There’s probably a perfectly rational explanation. Contacts or something… 

“Now, let’s look at your pictures. Here’s Auntie Kira and there’s Auntie Erica— she’s _never_ going to be your babysitter if I can help it— and Uncle Boyd…here’s Uncle Peter, he’s actually Daddy’s real uncle…Aidan and Ethan…oh, and Uncle Scotty, you’ll love him!” 

Derek clicks to the next picture, which is the same shot of him and Stiles he has framed. He smiles at the screen and then down at Stiles. “You’re a good boy,” he says gently. “Not a lot of humans are, you know. Some many are just…vicious, violent things. No packs, no purpose, no principles. Who knows what they might have done to my sweet little prince?” He pulls Stiles against his chest and rubs his arms. “Now you’re all safe with Daddy.” 

Stiles stares at Derek’s phone. If he could dial 911… 

“Let’s put you back in your bassinet.” Derek stands and Stiles immediately grips his shirt as best he can with the mittens on, whining around his pacifier imploringly. He can’t go back in the bassinet. Even though it’s humiliating to pretend to play along he nuzzles against Derek, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes. 

Derek smiles. “You want to cuddle with Daddy some more?” 

Stiles nods, hiding his face in Derek’s shoulder as if he’s shy. 

“Okay, sweet boy.” Derek kisses the top of his head and sits back down with him. “Daddy will always cuddle with you when you want. Hugs and kisses will never, ever be withheld as a punishment. I promise.” 

Stiles really hates how good it feels to be nestled against Derek like this. Nobody has ever wanted to cuddle with him. The few guys he’s dated always just wanted to fuck and get out. He wonders if that was in his file and that’s why Derek is doing it. 

“You can watch Daddy work,” Derek coos to him, clicking back over to his open online tabs. “Werewolves don’t like offices very much, so most people here work from home. Daddy searches online for possible werewolves who might still be living with humans— we want them all to come here where they can be safe. And Daddy looks for hunters too, bad people who want to hurt werewolves. See all these dots on the map? That’s where we think werewolves might be. Sometimes Daddy has to go on trips to get them, but now that you’re here that won’t happen until you’re settled.” 

_Until you’re settled._ For as long as Derek thinks he’s still struggling he won’t have a shot in hell of getting out. He needs to earn Derek’s trust, and win back his _privileges_ , and lull Derek into a false sense of complacency. 

And that means he has to play along. 

He sits quietly in Derek’s lap while the man works. It’s still boring, since he doesn’t really know what Derek is doing as he clicks all over, but it’s better than the bassinet. After a while he decides to really ramp it up and he whimpers, budging his head against Derek’s chest. 

Derek looks down at him. “Yes, sweetheart?” 

He pouts at Derek, not sure how to really communicate what he wants. Shame Derek doesn’t seem to be into baby sign language. 

Somehow Derek gets it. “Your doggie, baby? You want your puppy?” 

Stiles nods and hides his face again. 

“Okay, let’s go get him.” Derek stands. Stiles had kind of hoped Derek would leave him alone in the office, but he hadn’t gotten his hopes up. “Where did that silly doggie get to, hm?” He walks Stiles down the stairs and picks up the stuffed animal from where Stiles had dropped it. “Here he is!” He holds it out to Stiles, then pulls it back, face stern. “Remember what Daddy said about taking away toys when you break the rules. If you misbehave, the doggie has to go away.” 

Stiles hugs the dog tightly. Its fur is soft. It reminds him of a teddy bear his real mom had given him that he would cuddle with every night. When he was ten one of his foster brothers had thrown it on the roof of the garden shed. Nobody got it down for him no matter how much he begged. 

His stomach rumbles and Derek hoists him a little higher into his arms. “Lunchtime!” 

When they get to the kitchen Derek goes to put him in the high chair again and this time he doesn’t fight. The little tray closes around him and Derek beams at him. “Such a good boy!” he crows, sounding outrageously proud. “Now my little boy gets a special lunch for being so good. Daddy’s going to put the puppy right here so he doesn’t get dirty, okay?” 

Stiles is weirdly reluctant to let the dog go. Derek sets it upright on the table so Stiles can see it and turns to start lunch. Stiles has wild dreams of real food, but much to his disappointment, Derek comes towards him with a bowl of white lumps. “Rice pudding!” Derek says cheerfully. 

Stiles tries the puppy-dog eyes again. 

“You’ll like it, sweetheart. Since this is the first solid food you’ll be eating we have to go light, or you’ll get sick to your little tummy. But let’s add some raisins as a treat…” Derek shakes a few in, then beams at Stiles and reaches into a drawer to pull out a bib. 

Good _God_ he is pushing it. Stiles can’t take the pout off his face as Derek ties the bib around his neck and takes out his pacifier. It’s so big that Stiles drools a little when it comes out, and Derek wipes his face with the bib, looking smug that it’s already come in handy. “There we go! Open wide.” 

Stiles should have known he wouldn’t be allowed to feed himself. He opens his mouth reluctantly and Derek smiles before putting the spoonful in. It’s bland, but it’s _real food_. He swallows it eagerly and opens his mouth for more. 

“Such a good boy!” Derek feeds him another bite. It feels so good having solid food in his stomach that Stiles catching himself smiling. He immediately wipes it off his face, furious with himself. Derek is beaming. “I think my baby boy deserves another special treat.” He grabs a banana and one of those slicer things Stiles honestly thought no human being ever owned and cuts the banana up before feeding the slices to Stiles. 

He eats each slice and feels full to bursting by the time it’s all gone, but Derek isn’t done yet. He lifts Stiles out of the chair, makes another bottle and sits Stiles on his lap so he can feed him. “Baby boys need lots of formula to stay healthy,” he tells Stiles, stroking his free hand over Stiles’ hair. “Oh, that’s it. Is that yummy in your little tummy?” 

When the bottle is empty Derek burps him and does the belly-rubbing thing again. Stiles doesn’t fight. He feels weirdly content, full and warm and kind of sleepy. He uses his hands like a pillow against Derek’s shoulder and Derek chuckles at him before grabbing the dog and giving it back to Stiles. “We’ll have to think up a name for your doggie,” he coos. 

After a few more minutes of belly rubs Derek grabs his pacifier again. Stiles whimpers and tries to hide his face in Derek’s shoulder, but Derek gently pulls him away. “Trust me, sweetheart, we’ll need this in a few minutes.” 

Stiles doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t really care. He yawns around his pacifier and Derek stands up. “Time for my little prince’s nap,” he says, hoisting Stiles into his arms securely. 

As they go upstairs the pleasant fullness in Stiles’ stomach becomes…something else. How long had Derek said he’d been out, three days? Add that to however long he’d been held before Derek took him, and it must be a long time since he’s had solid food. His digestive system is revolting. 

Oh no. _No_. He’s going to shit his pants. He immediately starts to struggle against Derek, who hushes him. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. This is what little boys do, they make messes in their diaper and then Daddy makes you all clean.” 

He can’t. He _won’t._

“You can do it. Daddy will put you in a new diaper, a nice thick one for naptime, and lots of cream and powder so my little boy is all comfy. Just let go. If you can’t go potty on your own Daddy will have to put special medicine in your bottom.” 

Any warm feelings he might have had towards Derek evaporate. He tries desperately to clench his ass but within minutes he feels his muscles give up. The diaper fills. 

“There we go!” Derek puts him down on the changing table and strips him quickly. “Such a good little baby using his diaper for Daddy.” 

Stiles screams around his pacifier as Derek wipes him off. This is the grossest thing that has ever happened to him and he just wants it all to go away. Derek wipes him thoroughly, rubs cream all over, and puts on another diaper. This one is so puffy his thighs won’t close. “Let’s get you in some comfy jammies,” Derek says. He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, just cheerful, like Stiles is really a silly little baby throwing a tantrum over nothing. 

The pyjamas have rocket ships and Derek kisses the one on his belly before carrying him over to the crib. “Now you’re going to take a nice nap after your big morning and when you wake up you can have some fun with Daddy.” He lays Stiles down and fits the cover over the top of the crib. “Night-night, sweetheart. Daddy loves his little Stiles.” 

Stiles buries his face in the stuffed dog’s fur. He can hear soft tinkling as Derek starts up the mobile over the crib, and then he must turn on some kind of soother machine that fills the room with the sound of comforting waves. When Stiles peers through the slats of the bars he can see Derek in the rocking chair, watching him. 

Stiles closes his eyes. 

X 

Derek watches Stiles fall asleep, head pillowed on his stuffed puppy. He can’t help but be amused by just how _textbook_ Stiles has acted thus far— he’s behaved exactly the way Derek has been trained to expect. The tantrums over the diaper changes, immediately clinging to his first toy, even the little pretense he’d put on in Derek’s office. 

Of course his little boy is still thinking he can find some way out of here. Derek knows that. But soon enough he’ll accept where he is. He’ll be such a good baby, giggling and cooing up at Derek during his changes and begging Derek for kisses and new toys. Just like all the other babies here. 

Coddled, but controlled. Exactly how all humans should be. 

Derek lets the baby sleep for an hour before going to wake him up. Stiles blinks at him for a second before remembering that he’s mad at Derek, but Derek ignores his pout, carrying him right over to the table to put him back in his onesie. “Now,” he says gently. “My little boy can have some fun on his playmat, or if he’s not feeling big enough for that he can go back in his bassinet while Daddy works.” 

Stiles sulks, staring grumpily over Derek’s shoulder. 

“Let’s try out your mat.” Derek carries him back down to the living room. The play mat has plastic arches with toys dangling off for the baby to bat at. Derek lays Stiles carefully on his back and raises one of his mittened hands to make a toy swing. 

Stiles glares at him. 

“You’ll be able to play with lots of other toys when you’re a little bigger,” Derek tells him. Encourage the baby to be good so he can earn privileges. The first rule for new daddies. “But isn’t this fun? Let’s bring the doggie over so he can play too.” He grabs the stuffed animal and playfully uses one of its paws to bat a toy. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. Silent sassiness. Again, textbook. Derek pretends he hasn’t seen. He keeps encouraging Stiles to play with the toy until he can tell the baby is fed up. If he were a little more settled into his new life he would probably start crying, but as it is he looks seconds away from taking a swing at Derek again. 

As much as Derek wants him to get through his first day without unnecessary trauma, he would _have_ to punish his baby if he tried that again, so he picks Stiles up before he snaps. “That’s probably enough for your first day. We’ll have lots more fun tomorrow.” 

Stiles makes an adorable growling sound behind his pacifier. Derek carries him back into the office and places him securely in his bassinet before returning to his work. By the time he finishes it’s going dark outside and Stiles looks about ready to drift back off to sleep. 

“Let’s have some dinner,” Derek says, lifting him out and patting his back to wake him up. 

When he goes to put Stiles in his high chair he can practically hear his baby’s mind whirling— he’s trying to decide if he really wants more solid food, since it will mean another diaper change. Derek is proud of him when he decides not to fight. “More rice pudding for my baby boy!” Derek says cheerfully. 

He makes it quickly, adding dried cranberries this time. When he takes out Stiles’ pacifier the baby whimpers. “Please,” he croaks. “Lemme _go_ …” 

Oh, the little thing. Derek _really_ doesn’t want to punish him today so he beams at Stiles as if he hadn’t said anything. “I know,” he croons, pretending the baby is just babbling at him. “My baby is so hungry, isn’t he? It’s so nice to have such yummy food instead of sleepytime milk.” 

Stiles gets the hint and eats his rice pudding with a scowl. Derek feeds him another bottle of formula when it’s done— it has a low-grade sedative in, nothing that would knock Stiles out but enough to keep him from running around. He definitely wants his baby to be sleepy for the next part. 

He carries Stiles upstairs to the bathroom. His bathtub is huge, much too big for a little boy like Stiles who’s liable to thrash around and hurt himself, so he’s already installed the adult-sized baby bath. Stiles fits inside perfectly and Derek undresses him before strapping him down, securing him around the chest so he’ll be still while Derek washes him. 

Stiles looks terrified and Derek smiles at him reassuringly. “Just a bath, little boy. We’ll have bath time every two days so Stiles will be fresh and clean. Look what Daddy has!” He pulls the bright red cloth over his hand and squirts on gel, moving the baby bath to the faucet so he can fill it up. 

He enjoys bathing Stiles, scrubbing all that soft skin with his hand and washing out the suds. When he moves his hand down to Stiles’ thighs the baby tries to thrash and Derek soothes him. “Your little pee-pee needs a bath too, sweetheart. Little boys need clean privates so they don’t get rashes under their diapers.” 

Once Stiles’ body is clean Derek washes his hair, putting his hand over Stiles’ face so the baby won’t get soap in his eyes. He drains the tub and wraps Stiles quickly in a fluffy towel before carrying him back to the nursery. Stiles has tired himself out and he’s quiet as Derek puts him in a new diaper and a fresh set of pyjamas. Derek dims the nursery lights and carries Stiles over to the rocking chair, grabbing a storybook off the shelf. 

“You did very well for your first day with Daddy,” he congratulates the baby as he slowly starts to rock. “And we get to have another nice day tomorrow. Now, let’s read a story and then go beddy-bye.” 

Stiles is too tired to do anything but rest his head against Derek’s chest and watch as Derek reads the story to him, pointing out the pictures on each page and using different voices for the characters. His eyes have fluttered closed by the last page and Derek smiles, putting him back in his crib and replacing the cover. 

He really is on his way to becoming a perfect baby boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out in the comments if you want this fic to turn sexual. I'm fine either way but I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for the great feedback yesterday! I'm pretty sure I'm going to do what most people suggested and forego any actual sexual "relationship" between Derek and Stiles, but eventually Derek might be jerking Stiles off during diaper changes or other light stuff like that. I'll be sure to tag if/when that happens.  
> BUT because I maintain there's not enough forced infantilism in this fandom and it seems like some of you are into it I'll probably be writing another one-off story that'll be much darker than this one and have more sexualized elements, since at this point I feel responsible for satisfying all your infantilism fic needs. We all have our crosses to bear.  
> Enjoy the chapter!

“Baby boy, time to wake up.” A hand shakes Stiles’ shoulder gently. “Open your eyes.” 

Stiles whines and burrows into his pillow. He doesn’t want to wake up. He feels warm and drowsy and he thinks he was just having a really good dream… 

“Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes for Daddy.” 

Stiles frowns. Wait. The memory of yesterday rushes back just as he realizes his lower body feels cold and soggy. 

Oh _no_. 

He opens his eyes to see Derek smiling down at him. “Is my sleepy boy ready to say hello?” Derek croons, leaning into the crib to pull Stiles out. “Daddy can’t let you stay in your crib too late or you won’t be tired by naptime.” 

Stiles huffs. He still has the stupid pacifier in or he would tell Derek _exactly_ what he thinks about naptime. 

“And my good boy used his diaper!” Derek kisses the side of his head. “Let’s clean you up.” 

When Derek takes off his diaper, Stiles realizes in horror that his dick is treating this like any other morning. He desperately tries to squeeze his thighs shut but Derek puts his hand there firmly to stop him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy knows his little boy can’t control it. It’ll go away.” He proceeds to apply cream and powder like nothing is amiss. The touches are impersonal enough that Stiles doesn’t get any harder, but it’s still humiliating. 

Derek kisses his forehead when he’s finished. “It’s okay for my little boy’s pee-pee to get hard,” he tells Stiles, voice serious. “Just so long as my baby doesn’t reach into his diaper to make it all sticky. Daddy is very serious about that rule and my baby won’t like what happens if he doesn’t follow it.” 

Stiles swallows hard, sucking on his pacifier without even realizing it. 

“Now, let’s get you dressed!” Derek finds him a brightly colored onesie that proclaims him _Nuts About Daddy_ — he _would_ like that one— and tugs a little beanie over Stiles’ head. When he’s fully dressed Derek smiles, looking thrilled. “Oh, my goodness. I have the cutest baby on earth.” He gives Stiles another kiss and heads downstairs. 

When they reach the kitchen he stops suddenly and huffs. “How the hell did you get in?” he asks gruffly, sounding like a completely different person. Stiles turns his head to see a blonde woman he recognizes from the pictures yesterday, grinning. 

“You hid a spare key under your porch mat. Silly Derek, that’s the first place an intruder would look.” 

“Thanks for the security tip. Leave.” 

But the woman is staring in fascination at Stiles. “He’s even cuter when he’s awake.” 

Stiles blushes. This woman can’t be much older than him, and he’s wearing a diaper and pacifier. Without even thinking about it he buries his face in Derek’s shoulder as if she can’t see him if he can’t see her. 

“Aww, he’s shy!” 

“Well, of course he is. It’s only his second day awake.” Derek jiggles his foot. “Sweetheart? Can you say hi to Auntie Erica?” 

Stiles shakes his head, keeping his face buried. Derek laughs a little, not the soft chuckle Stiles has heard but a different, meaner sound. “Sorry, Erica, looks like my baby has taste.” 

“Oh, cut the crap. Stop trying to hide what a big softy you are, we’ve all seen your true colors now. Can I hold him?” 

Stiles squeaks and burrows deeper into Derek’s arms. 

“I don’t think so. Maybe later.” Derek pats his back soothingly. “Didn’t I say I needed a few days alone with him to bond? I don’t have time for whatever it is you want.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving. You can’t blame a girl for playing dirty to become his favorite aunt; Kira’s totally gunning for it. Me and Boyd bought him a present.” 

Derek takes it from her. “Thank you. I’ll see you here for Sunday’s pack meeting.” 

“See you. Bye, Stiles!” 

Stiles refuses to look up until he hears the front door open and shut. Derek looks down at him and rolls his eyes. “Aunt Erica’s a handful, but she’s nice. All of Daddy’s friends are nice. Let’s see what present she got for you.” 

It’s a rattle. A literal fucking rattle. Derek looks pleased with it and shakes it at Stiles, making the little beads jangle. “Oh, boy, won’t my baby have fun with this?” 

Stiles imagines ramming it down Derek’s throat and actually smiles a little. 

“Why don’t you play with your rattle while Daddy makes you breakfast?” Derek sits him in his high chair and bustles around the stove. Stiles’ spirits lift at the thought of something hot to eat. He moves a little to find a comfortable position in the high chair and the rattle shakes. It’s kind of a nice sound. Like rain on a tin roof amplified by a thousand. He purposefully shifts position so it will make the sound again. He doesn’t want Derek to think he’s actually _playing_ with it. 

Derek brings over a bowl of oatmeal. He’s put blueberries on top and Stiles feels his mouth water, so he drools again when Derek takes out his pacifier. Derek just smiles before feeding him a spoonful. “Daddy won’t make you meet any more of my friends until you’re ready,” he tells Stiles, voice soft again. “But soon, when you feel up to it, we can take walks in the park— Daddy has a stroller all ready for you— or go on picnics with my packmates. Daddy likes it outside and you will too. The weather is nice and warm here.” 

It kind of worries Stiles that Derek thinks they can actually go outside. Surely his neighbors or _someone_ would realize something weird was going on. It’s not like _everyone_ could be in on this… 

He gets another bottle of formula just like yesterday, and then Derek takes him upstairs to the office. “I want my baby boy to have lots of fun today,” he says cheerfully as he lowers Stiles into the playpen. There are toys scattered all around, mostly rattle-type things he can shake or stuff with buttons he can press to make sounds. “If this is too overwhelming and you get fussy we’ll go back to the bassinet. But try to have fun, okay?” 

He lays Stiles on his stomach and puts a rattle in his hand. “Daddy will be right here keeping an eye on you.” 

When Derek has returned to his desk Stiles wiggles his toes. He has to see how much mobility he has. Maybe he can even get to his feet before Derek sees him. He tries to sit up and realizes in horror that he can’t— it’s like his limbs are all exhausted. 

He has a sneaking suspicion that it’s due as much to the bottles Derek is feeding him as the fact that he hasn’t been able to walk anywhere for a week. It’s a struggle even to turn over onto his back and he finally gives up and just tries to inch forward on his belly. That works, but it doesn’t get him anywhere fast. 

He has to be deemed “big” enough that he isn’t getting the bottles anymore. 

Well, there’s only one way to make that happen. He sighs and grudgingly reaches for a toy. Might as well play along instead of die of boredom. Anything to make Derek think he’s being brainwashed into liking this. 

The toy he’s picked is a barnyard one. When he presses little pictures of animal the toy plays the sound they make. _Moos_ and _baas_ fill the room. There’s only so much he can do with it and eventually he tosses it aside. It hits a miniature keyboard, striking middle C. The key rings out, lighting up blue. 

Stiles remembers one of his favorite foster families. He’d gone to a piano lesson with their biological daughter and had loved it, but only days later he’d been shipped to another home. He’d never gotten another chance to play piano. 

He reaches for the toy and presses a few keys. The notes are little obnoxiously loud, but this one isn’t so bad. And at the very least maybe he can play “Shave and a Haircut” until he drives Derek insane. 

He plays with the toy, losing track of time as the buttons light up. He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling. 

X 

Derek is very pleased with how the day is going. 

It’s nice to be able to sit at his desk watching his little boy play only feet away. He knows Stiles isn’t exactly having the time of his life yet, but he’s making an effort. The keyboard is clearly a big hit and Derek makes a note that Stiles likes musical toys. The Society has a great online shop full of grown-up baby toys that ship quickly, so he can be sure to stock the playpen with things Stiles will enjoy. 

His baby might think this world is too little for him, but there’s a reason the Society chose him. They’ve very thorough and precise in their efforts. Stiles already has all the qualities he needs to be a perfect baby. 

Derek works, glancing up every so often so he can smile in at Stiles playing. Eventually the notes from the toy piano stop and Derek smells it seconds later: his baby has used the diaper again. 

He can’t help but be proud that Stiles hasn’t started chucking toys at him in anger. He pauses what he’s doing and stands up. Stiles looks up at him from the playpen, lower lip poked out, and Derek smiles reassuringly at him. “Let’s get you clean,” he says, lifting Stiles out of the playpen. 

Stiles’ eyes water a bit during the changing but other than that he’s perfectly well-behaved. Derek is so pleased with him that he blows a raspberry on his tummy before he does up the onesie again. Stiles flails a little in his restraints and Derek laughs at him before picking him up and giving him a big cuddle. 

“You’re the best little baby in the whole world, you know that?” 

Stiles makes that little growl behind his pacifier again. Derek is really starting to love that sound. He carries his baby downstairs for a lunch of mashed vegetables, which Stiles eats without any fussing. He’s reluctant to drink his formula, but Derek is insistent and eventually Stiles swallows every drop. Derek thinks his baby has earned a treat so before he puts him down for naptime he rubs lotion all over his body. Because all of Stiles’ body hair has been removed he knows it feels good against his sensitive skin. 

“Now my little boy can feel nice and comfy as he goes beddy-bye,” he croons as he dresses Stiles in his pyjamas. “Should Daddy read you a nice bedtime story?” 

Stiles nods almost minutely and Derek grabs a story off the shelf. He reads it to Stiles, enjoying the warm weight of his little boy in his lap. When the story is finished Derek puts Stiles in his crib, waits until he’s asleep, and then leaves the nursery, feeling very smug with how his life is going. 

X 

Stiles is a little bit worried about how quickly things fall into a routine. 

Derek wakes him up every morning and gives him breakfast. Stiles then lays in his playpen while Derek does his work. More toys appear in there every day like magic— a keyboard twice the size of the original one, an electronic bongo set, a baby guitar. Apparently Derek isn’t minding the noise. 

Stiles usually has to use his diaper sometime in the morning but Derek has some kind of sixth sense for it and plucks him out of the playpen immediately for a change. Then they have lunch and Stiles gets put down for a nap. Every day he tells himself he’s going to use that time to get his mobility back, but instead he’s so tired out that he ends up sleeping again until Derek wakes him up. 

In the afternoon Derek “plays” with him— he’s really into that newborn mat with the dangling toys, but he also does some stretches with Stiles “so your little tootsies don’t get aches.” Stiles enthusiastically participates in that, hoping it’ll eventually help him be able to run out of here. 

Derek usually does some more work in the afternoon while Stiles waits in the playpen, and then it’s dinnertime. Every other day Stiles gets a bath— he still doesn’t like it, even though the soft washcloth feels undeniably good— but when it’s not bath day Derek just cuddles with him on the rocking chair until he’s sleepy. There’s always at least one story before bed and even though Stiles doesn’t actually _do_ much during the day he always conks out within minutes of being lowered into the crib. 

It goes on like that for about a week, until the day Derek wakes him up, changes him, and then sits down in the rocking chair. “Today’s a special day for my little boy,” he says, stroking Stiles’ hair. “You get to say hi to all of Daddy’s friends.” 

Stiles doesn’t want anyone to come and see him. He pouts at Derek, already having learned that Derek almost always gives him what he wants when he makes that face. This time Derek just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, they’re very excited to see you. And because I know you can be my well-behaved boy Daddy has a special present for you.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead and carries him down to the living room. 

There’s something new where his playmat usually is. One of those sit-in baby walkers, adult-sized just like everything else. Derek lowers him into it, putting his hands over some buttons. “You can have lots of fun with this while Daddy and his friends talk,” he says proudly. 

Stiles can’t even contain his joy. He can _walk_. He tests it out, using his largely useless feet and the walker to drag himself forward a few steps. _He can move without Derek’s help!_

He can’t stop himself from grinning and Derek smiles back. “Look at my happy boy!” He presses kisses all over Stiles’ face before standing and heading into the kitchen. 

Stiles starts moving around the living room. The walker is a little noisy if he moves the wrong way, which is unfortunate, but it’s fast. He’s concentrating so hard on getting himself around that he isn’t paying attention to what’s going on around him, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes someone is standing right behind him. 

“Hello there.” The man smiles. Stiles recognizes him from Derek’s pictures. _Uncle Peter_. “Aren’t you just adorable?” 

Stiles stands still. There’s something off about the man’s smile and the glint in his eye. He finds himself wishing Derek was in the room. 

“Yes,” the man continues, lowering himself down so he can look face Stiles directly. “Just cute enough to _eat_.” His smile grows and suddenly it’s like his face is _changing_ , getting all hairy and sort of predatory… 

“Peter, what are you doing?” 

Derek sounds disapproving as he walks over. Stiles turns away from Peter to stare up at Derek pleadingly. 

“Just introducing myself to the little lad.” Peter reaches out to tap the pacifier in Stiles’ mouth. “Oh, why do you have him gagged, Derek? The little squeaks of fright are so much fun.” 

“That’s enough.” Derek lifts Stiles out of the walker and Stiles clings to him, terrified out of his mind. Peter’s face— he doesn’t know how to explain that. “I won’t have anyone scaring my little boy,” Derek tells Peter severely. 

“I won’t love a human even if it’s yours, Derek.” 

“He _is_ mine. Either put your prejudice away or leave.” Derek kisses Stiles’ forehead. “Uncle Peter’s just being silly,” he says gently. “Nobody’s going to hurt Daddy’s little Stiles. Let’s put you back in your walker, sweetheart.” 

He lowers Stiles into it and Stiles immediately uses it to get as far across the room as possible. 

“Aw, look at him cruising!” Two more people enter the room, beaming at Stiles. “Hey, little guy.” 

“Scott and Kira,” Derek says, both in greeting and introduction. 

Scott and Kira can’t be any older than Stiles. He blushes bright red and tries to hide behind the couch. “It’s overwhelming,” he hears Derek says with a smile in his voice. “He’ll come say hi when he’s ready.” 

More people keep arriving, popping their heads over the couch occasionally to say hello. They’re a loud, happy bunch, laughing over jokes Stiles doesn’t understand. Stiles hears a couple of them call Derek “Alpha.” 

He can’t get the image of Peter’s face out of his head. Derek has been talking about werewolves so often that he’s just kind of started ignoring it, but for the first time he starts to wonder… 

No. No way. This is the first step towards brainwashing and he is _not_ playing along. 

After a few minutes he realizes nobody is paying any attention to him whatsoever. For the first time since he’s gotten here, he’s being ignored. His heart pounds excitedly and he starts to edge away from the couch. There are two entrances to the living room, and the back one leads towards the front door. He slowly backs out of the room, careful to keep the walker quiet. 

He’s doing it. He just has to open the front door, climb out of the walker, and make a run for it. Then he can flag down a car on the street or scream at the top of his lungs. 

He’s just reached the front hallway when he hears footsteps behind him. “Here you go,” Derek says cheerfully, grabbing the walker and turning it so Stiles is pointing back towards the living room. He heads back into the living room while Stiles stares after him, stunned as to why he’s treating Stiles’ escape like it’s nothing. 

Well, screw him. Stiles still has a shot. He turns the walker around and strains back towards the doorknob. 

He hears laughter and seconds later Derek is lifting him from the walker. “Okay, sweetheart,” he says, patting Stiles’ back. “How about you just sit with Daddy, hm?” 

Stiles groans with disappointment and anger as Derek carries him into the living room and sits him on his lap. The others are grinning at him. “You were really going there, huh, buddy?” Erica says cheerfully. 

Stiles scowls at her and turns to press his face into Derek’s lap. Whatever. It’s the least embarrassing option here. 

Everyone keeps on talking while Derek rubs Stiles’ back and kisses the top of his head every so often. They’ve brought food, which smells amazing, but when Stiles tries to reach for a cookie Derek gently pulls his hand away. “Is my little boy hungry for a bottle?” he asks. 

“Ooh, I’ll feed him!” Kira says. 

Stiles gives Derek a look that tells him if he lets any of these people feed Stiles a bottle Stiles will never forgive him. 

“Nah, I’ve got it.” Derek carries Stiles into the kitchen and prepares his bottle. Much to Stiles’ relief he feeds it to him privately, burping him before taking him back into the living room. He doesn’t put the pacifier back in, which is almost scary— Stiles doesn’t want to accidentally talk and earn himself a spanking. “How about you sit with Auntie Erica?” he asks as he lowers Stiles into her lap. 

Erica’s all bones as she bounces Stiles on her knees. “Hi, cutie!” 

Stiles stares across the room at Derek, silently pleading with him to come back. 

Erica skirts her finger over his cheek. “Aww, look at his big eyes.” She smiles at the man with her. “Should we get one, Boyd?” 

Boyd makes a face. “You know how I feel about humans.” 

“Well, they’re all right like this.” Erica kisses Stiles’ forehead. “Huh? You’re not so bad, are you, cutie-pie?” 

“I want him,” another voice says, and Stiles finds himself being passed into the lap of a curly-haired man wearing a scarf. Even though Stiles knows they’re all around the same age and height everyone just seems so… _big_ compared to him. “Hey, doesn’t he remind you of the Jacobsen’s little boy?” 

Another head pops down next to Isaac’s. “Yeah, kind of. It’s the eyes.” 

He’s passed over to someone else. He cranes his head desperately for Derek, but he’s deep in conversation across the room with Peter. “Oh man, I almost forgot humans have all these blemishes. What are these, moles?” 

“Freckles, dumb-ass. Wait. That one’s a mole.” 

“Don’t be so mean to him. Give him here.” 

Stiles feels a bubble of panic in his chest. Voices are going all around him as he’s passed over from person to person, hands touching and poking and stroking him. He hates this and he just wants…he just wants… 

He opens his mouth, getting ready to scream at them to let him go, but his self-preservation kicks in at the last minute and he wails the only thing he can think that might make it stop but not get him into trouble: _“Daddy!”_

Immediately Derek scoops him up and cradles him against his chest. “Okay,” he croons, rocking Stiles gently. “All right, my little prince. I think that’s enough socializing for one day. Don’t cry, sweet boy. Daddy’s here. You’re all right.” 

Stiles cries anyway, totally overwhelmed. 

“Let’s go upstairs. Say bye-bye to everyone.” 

Stiles shakes his head, refusing to look up from Derek’s shoulder. Derek chuckles. “Okay, baby.” 

It’s such a relief to feel Derek walking him upstairs and into the nursery. Derek sits with him in the chair, rocking him until he’s a little bit calmer. “I know that was scary,” Derek said softly. “Was it just all those people, sweetheart?” 

It was, but it wasn’t. Stiles opens his mouth, then hesitates and looks imploringly at Derek. 

“Do you need to use your words?” 

Stiles nods frantically. 

“Okay, little one. Just this once, because Daddy wants you to feel better. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.” 

It’s almost difficult to find and shape the words. “P-Peter’s face…” 

Derek nods encouragingly. 

“Is he…are you really…” His own face crumples. He can’t say something so outrageous. 

“A werewolf?” Derek says kindly. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy hasn’t been lying to you. Would you like to see Daddy’s face like that?” 

Honestly, he really doesn’t. Something about it just flips some kind of switch in him, a long-dormant instinct telling him that he is _prey_ , no longer the top of the food chain but something that is to be hunted. But he has to know. He nods slowly. 

Derek’s eyes change first. They glow bright blue, the pupil size changing as the hair on his face begins to thicken. His lips curl up, revealing— oh, God— sharp fangs that are extending further by the second. When he looks at Stiles his face just isn’t human. No contacts. No makeup. No special effects. Just…a _monster_ right here holding him. 

Stiles hears himself let out a wheezing scream. He tries to jump off of Derek’s lap but the _werewolf_ grips him tightly around the waist. “No, baby boy,” he croons. His face is already back to normal, as if he just had to blink himself back. “Don’t be scared. It’s _good_ that Daddy is a werewolf, it means he can care for his beautiful little baby forever, and make sure nobody ever comes to hurt his Stiles…” 

Stiles sobs. 

“Sh. Oh, no, my sweet, beautiful boy. Don’t cry. Werewolves don’t hurt humans unless humans hurt them first. Daddy wouldn’t let any other wolves put a finger on his special little boy.” Derek peppers his face with kisses. “This is a good place, it’s a nice place. It’s not like those yucky places you lived before. You’re safe here. Daddy just wants to take care of you and buy you toys and tickle your little belly.” He tries, but Stiles is crying too hard to react. “A little human like you just needs to be taken care of, and that’s what Daddy will do. Daddy will never, ever hurt you, because Daddy loves his little prince so much.” 

Stiles gives up on struggling away and just cries in Derek’s arms. Derek hasn’t been lying. That must mean they’re _all_ werewolves, maybe everybody Derek knows. 

He is _screwed_. 

No. He can’t think like that. This is just proof that he can’t let himself fall into a routine. He can’t start trusting Derek. He has to leave this house and find other humans, anyone who can take him away from these monsters. 

Derek wipes off his face and just keeps sitting with him, rocking the chair back and forth. Eventually Stiles feels exhaustion creeping through him and he closes his eyes, unconsciously nestling into Derek’s embrace as he falls asleep. 

X 

The poor little thing. 

Derek rocks his baby back and forth until Stiles has finally stopped crying and drifts off to sleep. Derek carries him over the crib and lays him down gently. He wants to put in Stiles’ pacifier, but he’s afraid putting on the strap will wake his baby up. Instead he carefully pushes Stiles’ thumb into his mouth until the boy starts to suck, already trained by his pacifier. 

There. With any luck Stiles will just think he started sucking his thumb in his sleep. Hopefully it will help him regress. 

Once he’s sure Stiles is deep in sleep he heads downstairs. His packmates have all headed home except for Peter, who is eating Derek’s favorite chips out of his pantry. For God’s sake, with all the food still sitting out. He’s the worst. 

“Well,” he says, maddeningly cheerful. “Did your little one have a breakdown?” 

Derek scowls. He’s still annoyed with Peter’s antics. None of this ever would have happened if he hadn’t started wolfing out in front of Stiles. “He’s fine now.” 

“Oh, that’s not true and you know it. He’s afraid of you. How will he ever love and trust his daddy now?” 

“Peter, if you’re just going to gloat—” 

“Now, Derek, when have I ever been one to gloat?” Peter tosses the chip bag in the trash. “I’ll admit that you do seem quite taken with the little rodent.” 

“ _Peter_. Shut up.” 

“It just escapes me, Derek. I can understand why the others are cooing over him. They’ve grown up here. They’re used to humans as pets. But you and I— we were out there with them. We’ve seen what they can do. How can you possibly want one in your house?” 

Derek leans against the table, looking seriously at Peter. “You really don’t understand?” he asks quietly. “Why I might want a human completely under my control, looking up at me worshipfully, using a diaper and eating pureed fruits and vegetables just like a toddler and loving every second of it? How that might be the only way I could stomach one?” 

Peter rolls his eyes. “If this is about revenge on the humans, why not just kill him?” 

“I don’t want to kill him. I like him. He’s sweet and he’s had a hard time. I rescued him from his own kind and now he’ll stay with me forever, so he can never be corrupted by them. Soon enough he’ll completely adore me and he’ll never want to leave.” Derek turns to start cleaning up from the pack meeting. “Besides, Peter, it’s been a while since I’ve had any real family but you. Don’t I deserve someone to love and to love me?” 

Peter chuckles. “I think you’re counting your chicken a bit early, Derek. As I said, the boy’s terrified of you now. I read everything the Society sent you. You and I both know what you have to do.” 

Derek scowls. “And what’s that?” 

“He has to know that you’re the only one he can trust. He has to stop thinking that there’s some way he can get out of here, because you’ll find him wherever he goes. He has to realize he can’t get by without you.” Peter smiles. “You have to let him escape.” 

Damn it. He’s right. It’s a tactic the Society recommends, to secretly engineer a way for the baby to get out of the house, so he can realize there’s nobody around to help him. By the time he’s returned to his Daddy, he only wants to feel safe and loved again. “I don’t want him hurt.” 

“He won’t be hurt. You know how the entire place goes on lockdown when there’s a runaway baby on the loose. You’ll alert the police— and knowing you you’ll probably be prowling a few steps behind him the entire time. He’ll be absolutely fine the entire time, though _he_ won’t know that.” 

“And you’re trying to get me to do this…why?” 

“Because that’s what family does, Derek. They help each other.” Peter hesitates by the door. “If this is what makes you happy, so be it. I will never say I understand, but I accept it. Just don’t expect me to coo over him like the others.” 

“I’m sure he’ll win you over eventually.” 

“Ha. I wouldn’t count on it.” 

Derek finishes cleaning up after Peter leaves, then tiptoes upstairs so he can check on the baby. Stiles is still deeply asleep and Derek stands over his crib, watching him. He’s going to sleep right through lunchtime, but Derek figures he’ll need the rest. Peter is right. The best way to remind Stiles that Derek is his source of protection and comfort in this foreign place is to let him escape. 

Derek sighs and removes the cover of the crib so he can stroke his hand over his little boy’s head. Stiles mumbles in his sleep, still sucking his thumb, and nuzzles into the touch. 

Oh, God. This isn’t going to be pleasant for either of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles is pretty sure Derek feels bad for scaring him. When he lifts Stiles out of the crib after naptime he doesn’t give Stiles a big kiss like he usually does, just asks softly if he’s feeling better and quickly changes his diaper. He gives Stiles his stuffed puppy, maybe realizing that Stiles needs to hide his face in something that isn’t Derek’s shoulder. 

Everyone’s gone from downstairs. Derek feeds Stiles his lunch and then puts him in the playpen upstairs, giving him space while he works. Stiles doesn’t feel like playing with any of the toys so he just scrunches into the corner, holding the puppy tightly. 

It’s not until Stiles is put in his crib for bedtime that it hits him: Derek hadn’t fed him bottles at either lunch or dinnertime. He wiggles his toes, then stretches out his legs. He’s getting his mobility back. He feels almost _normal_. 

A part of him just wants to smash off the crib cover and make a run for it right _now_. But his gaze falls to the baby monitor on the dresser, its little green light blinking. Derek is listening. Besides, he can’t be running around outside while it’s dark out. 

He goes to sleep reluctantly. Maybe in the morning he’ll get his chance. 

Derek doesn’t feed him a bottle at breakfast either, and much to Stiles’ surprise he’s taken into the living room instead of upstairs to the office. “Daddy was thinking it might be nice for you to have some more fun with your walker,” Derek says as he lowers him into it. “Daddy will just work on his laptop on the couch, okay, pumpkin?” 

Stiles does laps around the room determinately, pressing the buttons on the walker every so often so Derek will think he’s having fun instead of gearing up to make a run for it. He’s so focused that he doesn’t realize he’s used his diaper until Derek is picking him up and carrying him upstairs. 

After his diaper is replaced Derek hesitates before doing up his onesie again. “How about some big-boy clothes for my sweet baby?” 

Stiles nods enthusiastically. Derek smiles at him, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and bustles in the dresser before coming back with real clothes. The jeans are baggy and have an elastic waist and the shirt reads _Daddy’s Little Troublemaker_ in bubble letters, but whatever. Derek even rolls fuzzy socks onto his feet, pausing to tickle his soles. “Don’t you look like a big boy,” he says as he lifts Stiles, pressing a little kiss to his neck. 

When he’s taken back into the living room Derek puts him in his walker and then crouches to look at him. “Okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s going to go into the kitchen for a while. Can my little boy play on his own?” 

Stiles nods, sucking hard on his pacifier. This is it. 

Derek kisses his forehead, lingering for a second. “I love you, little prince,” he says softly before walking out of the room. 

Stiles waits for a few seconds to be sure he’s really gone, then tears the pacifier off his head and starts to fight out of the walker. 

X 

This is excruciating. 

Derek waits in the kitchen, wincing at the sounds he hears from the living room. His little boy is not meant to be an escape artist. Derek has all but placed him at the door with a map and a canteen, and he’s still being so obvious that if Derek wasn’t letting this happen he’d be back in the living room in a second. 

There’s a resounding crash and Derek groans. He can’t very well pretend not to hear that. “Stiles?” he calls, rushing back into the living room. “Oh, my baby. What happened?” 

Stiles is lying on the floor with his walker half on-top of him, looking winded. 

“Did you fall over?” Derek pulls him out of the walker and cuddles him. “It’s okay. It was silly of Daddy to leave my baby alone with such a big-boy toy.” He sees Stiles’ pacifier on the ground and frowns. “Pumpkin, you know better than to take out your pacifier.” 

Stiles looks guilty and opens his mouth so Derek can put it back in. Derek shakes his head and sticks it in his pocket. “No, sweetheart, it’s all covered in yucky germs now.” He carries Stiles over to the baby play mat and places him under the arches. “Why don’t you play here while Daddy works in the kitchen? Just yell really loud if you need Daddy and I’ll come running.” 

Stiles smiles at him. Derek knows it’s just to convince Derek that he’s fine, so he can get on with his escape, but it does tug at Derek’s heartstrings. 

All Derek wants to do is take care of this little boy. 

He walks back into the kitchen slowly. With his super-hearing he can listen to every sound Stiles makes as he struggles out from under his mat and starts towards the door. His heartbeat accelerates and for a second Derek hopes he’ll turn back, but instead he hears the front door slowly open. 

He glances out the window and sees Stiles stumbling down the front path. His legs aren’t quite strong enough to support himself yet and he stumbles to his hands and knees— Derek will have to put balm on those scrapes tonight— but he quickly just starts crawling. 

Derek sighs and grabs the phone. “Hey,” he says. “He just left the house and is heading your way.” 

X 

Stiles can’t believe it. He’s done it. He’s really _done it_. 

He doesn’t know how long it will be before Derek walks back into the living room to check on him so he goes as fast as he can. His legs are too wobbly to run but he crawls, trying to get out of sight of the house. 

Maybe he should go bang on a door. Not one of Derek’s direct neighbors, since he isn’t sure where his packmates live. He just has to get to the end of the street. 

When he’s sure Derek can’t see him he gets to his feet and starts taking shaky steps forward. It really does feel like he’s a baby learning to walk again. 

God, why aren’t there any cars out here? 

He starts following the road, feeling himself trembling a little bit. After a minute he realizes he’s chewing his thumb, on the edge of sucking it. He has to calm down. Think about what he’ll do when he’s out of here. He’ll sue Derek and make millions, not to mention the money he’ll get revealing werewolves exist. Talk show visits, a tell-all book… 

And he’ll never have to see Derek again. 

That’s a good thing. That’s _good_. But he’s definitely going to have to find someone who gives warm hugs like Derek. The cuddles hadn’t been so bad, after all. 

Even the bedtime stories had been okay. He’d liked falling asleep while someone was talking to him. 

And the puppy. It had been nice to cuddle with the stuffed puppy, to squeeze it close to his chest when he was getting upset. He’d thought about taking it with him, but that was dumb. He doesn’t need toys, he’s an adult. He reaches down to feel his diaper. He can’t _wait_ to take this thing off. 

He hears a door slam and he freezes. Surely he’s far enough away from Derek’s house that he’s safe, right? “Hello?” he calls tremulously. “Can anyone hear me?” 

A throat clears from right behind him. “Yes, I can.” 

His breath catches as he turns around. He knows that voice. 

_Peter._

“Now, what is my nephew’s baby doing out here all on his lonesome?” Peter stalks towards Stiles, smirking a little. “Are you and Derek playing hide-and-seek?” He looks around exaggeratedly. “Yoo-hoo! Derek!” 

Stiles finds his thumb creeping towards his mouth again. 

“Or maybe you’re being a very naughty boy and you ran away.” Peter comes to a stop in front of Stiles. Even though Stiles is finally standing at his full height, he feels about two inches tall. “Am I right?” 

Stiles’ shoulders slump. It’s over. Peter’s going to carry him right back to Derek, and Derek’s going to be so _mad_ at him… 

Peter stares at him for a second, then shrugs. “Well, I was hoping Derek would just get bored with you, but this works too. Go on. Run for it.” 

He actually steps aside, spreading an arm wide. Stiles stares at him. “A-are you serious?” 

“Of course.” Peter laughs at him. “What? This solves all my problems. Nobody will believe your story, so Derek won’t be in any trouble. You’ll be gone and Derek can get back to leading our pack. Hurry before he comes after you. Make a left at the end of the street, then another left right where the forest begins, and you’ll hit the main town. The police station is the second building after the light. If I see Derek I’ll say I haven’t seen you.” 

Stiles hesitates, but he doesn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you,” he whispers before bolting, making the left at the end of the street. 

He finds himself facing another row of houses, though these aren’t quite as nice as the ones on Derek’s street. His legs are still shaking and he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, can’t catch his balance, and falls. The sudden pain is so surprisingly that he loses his breath, and for a second he expects to feels strong arms scooping him up and holding him close. He wants a hug. He wants— 

No. No, no, no. Those thoughts are bad. He gets to his feet slowly and swallows hard, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed that he might cry. He can see the forest Peter mentioned, and where the road turns, and he heads that way. A car turns onto the street just as he reaches the turn and comes to a stop right in front of him. The front door opens and a man gets out, scowling. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” 

Stiles stares at him. “I…I need…” 

“You’re not welcome here.” The man’s teeth bare. “Who’s with you?” 

“N-nobody— I ran— ” 

“Nobody,” the man repeats. “Well, that’s very unfortunate for you.” 

His eyes change color and Stiles panics. He runs without a second thought, veering away from the street and into the woods. He doesn’t look back, too focused on going as fast as possible. By the time he’s calmed down he realizes that nobody is behind him. And he is now totally, completely lost. 

_Great._ He bends over to catch his breath and try to figure out what to do. He has no idea how deep these woods are, or what kind of animals are out here. 

“Hi there. Are you lost?” 

Stiles is so startled at the voice that he jumps and falls again right onto his diapered ass. He turns to see two people, a bald man and a tall woman, staring at him. 

“Oh, jeez.” The bald man crouches down next to Stiles, extending a hand to help him up. His eyes flicker to the writing on Stiles’ shirt and he smirks. “Well, what do we have here?” 

“I need help,” Stiles stammers. His voice sounds kind of weird to his own ears. High-pitched and frightened. 

“Yes, I think you do. I see you’re _Daddy’s little troublemaker_ , but I don’t see your Daddy anywhere.” The man grins at Stiles, and Stiles can see his teeth start to sharpen. “Let me guess…Derek Hale’s little human? Not like him to let one of his own run around without any protection. Did someone run away?” 

Stiles’ stomach turns. These people— these _werewolves_ — aren’t going to help him. He tries to scoot backwards, but the man grabs him. His arms are tighter than Derek’s. “Kali, what do you think? Should we help this lost little one get back home, or should we keep him for ourselves? 

The woman looks Stiles up and down. “Is there a third option?” 

“Oh, there’s only _one_ option when it comes to humans.” The man squeezes Stiles so tightly he can’t breathe. “Daddy’s little troublemaker, you’ve made yourself a _world_ of trouble now.” He sets Stiles on his feet. “How about we give you a thirty-second head start, and then we’ll play a really fun game called ‘Hunt the Human?’ You’ll like it! Except when we catch you, of course— that part’s only fun for us.” 

Stiles shakes his head wildly. “I didn’t do anything to you,” he chokes. Derek had said werewolves didn’t hurt humans unless they were hurt first. He’d _promised_ Stiles would be safe here. 

“Yes, little one, you did. You see, you left Hale territory, and now you’re on our land. A human can’t trespass on his own into another wolf’s territory! And since you don’t have your Daddy here to vouch for you…well, we can only assume you’re a threat. A bad little human sneaking over here to cause trouble.” The man gives Stiles a little shove forward. “Go on, start running. You don’t want to waste your head start.” 

Stiles runs. He can hear them laughing behind him, then there’s a growl he doesn’t even want to _think_ about. They’re going to kill him. Fuck, they’re probably going to _eat_ him. All that will be left is his diaper and this stupid shirt. 

He bursts through the trees and almost sobs with relief: there’s a cop car slowly coming down the street. “Help!” he screams, waving his arms above his head. “Help me!” 

The door to the car opens and Stiles smacks right into the chest of the officer. “Whoa!” the guy says, alarmed. “What’s going on?” 

Stiles finds himself clinging to the officer. He’s young and sturdy and feels _safe_. “Ch-chasing me…two people…” 

“Where?” 

Stiles looks over his shoulder. There’s no one behind him. The entire street is completely silent. 

Fine. They’re hardly his biggest problem anyway. “I’ve been kidnapped,” he tells the officer. Saying it makes tears spring to his eyes. 

“Kidnapped?” 

“This m-man, Derek Hale…he’s been holding me in his house for over a week. He was…” Stiles hesitates. He hadn’t _hurt_ Stiles exactly, but Stiles doesn’t know how to explain it. “He wouldn’t let me go.” 

The officer’s face is compassionate. “You got out on your own?” 

Stiles nods and sniffles back more tears. “I ran away like ten minutes ago. He’s probably l-looking for me…” 

“You’re okay now,” the officer says gently, probably seeing that Stiles is on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ll drive you to the station, all right?” 

Stiles nods and steps into the car when the officer opens the back door. He’s safe now. But weirdly he doesn’t feel any better— he just feels like he wants to close his eyes and go to sleep. He’d really thought those people were going to hurt him. 

“Everything’s going to be all right,” the officer tells him, still in that gentle voice. “My name is Jordan. What’s your name?” 

Stiles sniffles. “Stiles.” 

“Are you hurt?” 

He’s got scrapes on his knees and hands, and his ankle kind of aches, but he shakes his head. He finds himself desperately wanting to suck his thumb and he clenches his hands into fists. 

X 

Derek is frantic. Everything went wrong, so _terribly_ wrong. He’d planned everything meticulously with his pack, alliance packs, and the police, but somehow Stiles had ended up stumbling into Deucalion’s territory. 

He’s not safe there. 

Derek runs through the woods as fast as possible, afraid to shift since then he won’t be able to smell Stiles. He hears voices— “don’t want to waste your head start!” 

Seconds later he can hear Stiles’ terrified heartbeat, and the laughter of two of Deucalion’s betas. 

Oh _no_. 

He sees Stiles running away as fast as possible and the betas tensing to spring after him. Derek snarls and jumps in front of them before they can start running. “No,” he growls. “ _Mine_.” 

The betas’ faces, mid-transformation, shift back out of deference to an alpha. “He didn’t have permission to be here,” Ennis says defensively. 

“I know. He ran and went the wrong way. But I vouch for him now. Nobody puts a hand on him.” 

Ennis raises his hands placating. “We only scared him a little.” 

“I heard.” Derek takes a breath before he overreacts and attacks them. “I apologize that he came here without permission. But he belongs to me and any harm done to him will be taken as a direct sign of aggression against the Hale pack.” 

“Better let the others know. If he runs into Duke…” 

Duke will tear him apart. Derek groans and chases after Stiles. This is finished. Derek is taking him home _now_. 

When he bursts out through the trees, Stiles is nowhere in sight. 

Goddamn it. Had he gotten into a car? 

“Well, this has gone tits-up, hasn’t it?” 

Derek throws a look over his shoulder to see that Peter has followed him. “I’m about three seconds away from tearing out your throat, Peter.” 

“What did I do?” 

“I’d like to know! Because the plan was for you to send him towards the Jacobsen pack, who were all ready to give him a little scare and send him into Jordan’s arms. What the hell did you say to him?” 

“Exactly what we planned,” Peter says calmly. “I told him to turn right at the end of the street. He clearly didn’t pay attention and turned left instead. As soon as I realized where he was going I alerted you and then the police, so a thank-you can come at any time.” 

Derek growls. “If anything happens to him I’ll never forgive you. Or myself.” 

Peter rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Derek’s cell phone rings. “What?” he snaps into it. 

“Hey, Derek. We’ve got him.” 

Derek almost collapses in relief. “And he’s all right?” 

“A little shaken. You want to come get him now?” 

“No.” Derek takes a deep breath. His baby is fine. Everything’s all right. “Let’s stick to the plan. Let him stew for a little while.” 

“Sure thing. See you soon.” 

Derek hangs up and glares at Peter. “You’re lucky,” he says gruffly before stalking off so he can make a formal apology to Deucalion. 

X 

When they reach the station Jordan helps Stiles out of the car and into the station. “You can wait in here,” he says, still in that gentle talking-to-a-shock-victim voice as he ushers Stiles into some kind of waiting room with a table and padded bench built into the wall. “I’m going to tell my colleagues what you told me and make some calls.” 

Stiles frowns. He doesn’t want to be alone. “Shouldn’t you be interviewing me?” 

“We’ll get to that. Do you need anything? Water?” 

For a second Stiles wants coffee, but the actual thought of drinking it is hugely unappetizing. “Water, please.” 

“You got it.” Jordan closes the door behind him and Stiles sits down. He wonders if Jordan is sending officers to arrest Derek. Maybe he should ask them to grab the stuffed dog when they’re taking evidence. Just as, like, a souvenir of this insane chapter of his life. _Not_ because he desperately wishes he was hugging it right now. 

He shifts in the seat and hears his diaper crinkle. He flushes at the thought of how ridiculous he must look, just as Jordan opens the door again with water. “Here you go, Stiles. Do you need anything else?” 

“I…I need to go to the bathroom.” 

Jordan smiles kindly. “Do you need help?” 

Stiles goes ever redder, if possible. “No! Just…can you tell me where it is?” 

“Sure. I’ll walk you there.” 

Stiles can see other officers staring at him as Jordan walks him to the bathroom and it’s kind of a relief to escape their gazes. Once he’s in the bathroom he pulls off his diaper and wads it up into the trash. He forces himself to actually use the toilet, since he knows that incontinence shot is still working and he doesn’t want to soil his pants. The toilet paper feels scratchy and awful and after he pulls up his jeans he keeps shifting, uncomfortable with the way he feels. 

Jordan takes him back to the room again and closes the door. Stiles sits at the table for what seems like hours, staring straight ahead. Every so often Jordan pops his head in and says apologetically that someone will be talking to him soon. 

Shouldn’t they be taking his statement? 

His eyes feel heavy and he rubs at them with his fists. It’s past naptime. His body adjusted to Derek’s schedule without his permission. If he were with Derek right now he’d be sleeping in the crib, with fresh lotion and power under his diaper. He scratches under his jeans at the thought. That lotion always had felt really good. 

Eventually he can’t keep his eyes open anymore and he curls up on the bench. Jordan can wake him up whenever he actually bothers to come take his statement. 

He dreams that he’s floating on clouds, far away from everything. A warm gust of wind comes along and wraps him up like a blanket. It feels so good that he sighs happily and feels a soft kiss on his forehead. “We’re going home now,” a voice whispers. 

“Home?” 

“Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s here. Let’s go home.” 

His eyes pop open. No. No _way_. Derek is holding him. He immediately thrashes to try and get away but Derek is too strong and just hushes him gently. 

“Help me!” he cries. This is a police station. Someone has to hear, someone has to come… 

Derek carries him out. The officers are all still there and they look right at Derek and Stiles, smiling. This is like some kind of nightmare where everything is the opposite of what it should be. “Thanks, Jordan,” Derek says to the officer who had saved Stiles. 

Jordan smiles. “No problem, Mr. Hale.” He reaches up to pat Stiles’ back. “Hey, buddy. Don’t run away from Daddy again, okay? It’s not safe out there for a little guy like you.” 

They’re in on this. They _all_ are. They must all be werewolves too. Stiles can’t stand it and he hides his face as Derek carries him outside. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Derek says. His voice is soft but firm. “We’re going to go home and have a little talk.” 

Stiles tries to hit him but Derek grabs his hands. “Trust me, little one, you don’t want to start that right now.” 

“Let me go!” 

“Oh? Did my little boy not get enough of the outside world today?” Derek’s voice sharpens. “Maybe you want to go stumble into another pack’s territory and get chased. Or maybe you’d like to go get lost in the woods and meet a wild animal?” 

Stiles’ eyes fill and Derek softens. “I think my little boy just wants to go home with Daddy where he can be nice and safe. Hm?” 

Stiles knows when he’s beaten. He goes limp and lets Derek carry him to his car. There’s a car seat that Derek buckles him into before smoothing back his hair. “Daddy still loves you,” he says gently. He reaches around the seat and picks up the stuffed dog. Stiles grips it, rubbing the fur against his cheek, and doesn’t fight when Derek also puts in his pacifier. 

“There, that’s better.” Derek kisses his forehead. “Let’s go home.” 

X 

Derek glances in his rearview mirror as he drives the baby back home. Stiles is staring out the window, eyelashes starred with tears. It’s been a difficult day for him. For _both_ of them. 

Unfortunately, it isn’t over yet. 

When they get home he unbuckles Stiles from his car seat and carries him inside silently. He’s already gotten the baby bouncer out and he straps Stiles into it, so he’s sitting up and restrained. He sits down to meet the baby’s eyeline. “What you did today was very, very naughty,” he says seriously. 

Stiles’ lip trembles ferociously. 

“Daddy was scared out of his mind. I got a call from the neighbors telling me you went onto another wolf’s territory. You could have been killed. If a human goes onto another wolf’s territory and doesn’t have a wolf to vouch for them, they’re considered an intruder. Wolves have to protect their territory, because that’s where the people they love are. Just like Daddy protects his territory because you’re here. You can never, ever go outside of Daddy’s territory without Daddy or one of his friends.” 

Stiles is already crying and Derek tries not to soften. “I know you think you’re a big boy and you can be on your own without Daddy, but that’s not true. You need to realize that. Because it seems like you want Daddy to take you back to that filthy alley you were found in and leave you there all alone, so you can be killed by some mugger or drive-by shooting or bad needle one day.” He takes a breath, trying to keep his voice even. “Daddy trusted you today with big-boy privileges, and you responded by putting yourself in danger. Now Daddy has to make sure this never happens again.” 

He stands. After giving a pointed look to Stiles he folds up Stiles’ walker and carries it to the hall closet. “Your toys will stay in the closet for the rest of the day and tomorrow, and no more big-boy clothes or privileges. Daddy doesn’t like punishing his little boy, but he has to be sure his baby won’t do something so dangerous again.” 

He’s already brought the piano and toys from the playpen downstairs and he puts them in the closet before walking back over to Stiles and reaching for the stuffed dog. 

Stiles clutches it, curling around it protectively. 

“Stiles.” Derek’s tone brooks no argument. “Give it to me.” 

Stiles shakes his head. He can’t really turn away in the rocker, but he tries, doing everything he can to hold on to the stuffed animal. 

_Shit._ Derek sighs. He really doesn’t want to rip it away from his crying little boy. “Okay, Stiles. Daddy will give you a choice. You can keep the puppy, and Daddy will give you five spanks, or you can give it to me, and you won’t get any spanks. What will it be?” 

Stiles makes a brokenhearted sound behind his pacifier. He peers out at Derek, trying to see if he’s serious, then thrusts the dog at him, crying so hard his face is almost purple. 

Derek hesitates. He’d really thought Stiles would choose the spanking. Five is hardly any, and Stiles has so far avoided getting spanked, and he clearly _really_ wants to keep the dog— 

Something hits him and he stops before taking the toy. “Sweetheart,” he says gently, tipping Stiles’ chin up so he’s looking at Derek. “The bad people you used to live with— did they ever spank you?” 

Stiles nods, eyes screwed shut tightly so he doesn’t have to meet Derek’s gaze. Derek’s heart sinks. That hadn’t been in his file— it had said there was no evidence of physical abuse all through Stiles’ time in the foster system. 

But they would have had no way to know if one or more of his families had used corporal punishment inappropriately. His poor little baby had probably been spanked for minor infractions, or in ways that were unduly painful or humiliating. Someday Derek will probably have to teach him that spanking isn’t bad, it’s just a way to make sure his baby doesn’t misbehave in ways that might get himself hurt. But that day is not today. 

He reaches out to take the pacifier off of Stiles’ head before he chokes on his tears and carefully puts the dog back into his arms. “Okay, pumpkin. How about this. Daddy won’t spank you, and won’t take your doggie away, if you _calm down_ and give Daddy a big kiss on the cheek so he knows you won’t do it again.” He carefully unstraps Stiles from the bouncer and nestles him into his lap. “Come on, little boy. Daddy’s just upset that you put yourself in danger, but I still love my little prince more than anything.” He kisses the top of Stiles’ head. “Calm down. You’re safe at home now. You’re Daddy’s favorite little boy and you know now never to try and run away again.” 

Stiles sniffles, but after a few more gasping breathes Derek can feel him starting to calm down. “There we go,” Derek coos. “Daddy loves you, sweetheart. Everything’s okay.” He rubs big circles on Stiles’ back. “Why is my little boy crying, hm?” 

Stiles just whimpers, as if he can’t use his words. 

“Are you sad that Daddy came and got you?” Derek asks softly. 

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Stiles shakes his head. It’s a tiny little movement against Derek’s chest but it’s there. 

“Are you sad because Daddy yelled at you?” 

A miniscule nod. 

“Are you scared because of the mean wolves you met today?” 

Another nod. 

“Are you upset because you know you feel safe here with Daddy, and you don’t think you should be feeling that way?” 

Stiles doesn’t move for a while, but eventually he makes a jerky little head movement that could be interpreted either way. It doesn’t matter. Derek knows the answer. 

“Okay.” Derek pulls out a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes Stiles’ face. “Well, Daddy only yelled because I was very scared, and I need to know you won’t do that again. Those mean wolves will never, ever hurt my little boy as long as you’re with Daddy, and you’ll always be with Daddy from now on. And you _are_ safe. You had a long day, but now you’re back with me and everything’s going to be all right.” He wipes the last few tears off Stiles’ face. “Now, Daddy is cuddling you and you’ve got your puppy to hold and I imagine you’re probably going to get _two_ bedtime stories tonight, so you’ve come off pretty well here, haven’t you?” 

Stiles makes a little sound that Derek is almost positive is a giggle. His lips curve up for the briefest of seconds. Derek smiles back at him and taps his index finger against his cheek. “Give Daddy a kiss.” 

Stiles bites his lips adorably, then stretches up to kiss Derek’s cheek. Much to Derek’s surprise he then wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, nuzzling into his shoulder. Derek can hear his breath stuttering with the last few sobs caught in his chest and his heart just _melts_. 

“My beautiful baby,” he croons. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Daddy’s going to take you upstairs and put you in a new diaper. Then Daddy is going to feed you a bottle so your little tummy is full. Then Daddy is going to cuddle with you in the rocking chair until you’re ready for beddy-byes. How does that sound, my little prince?” 

Stiles nods and Derek lifts him and carries him upstairs. He happily strips off the ridiculous jeans and shirt, pausing only to gives Stiles a stern look. “Daddy is also very unhappy you took off your diaper,” he scolds lightly. “But we’ll save that discussion for another time. Now let’s take care of your boo-boos.” 

He applies balm to Stiles’ scrapes, rubs down the rest of him with baby lotion, and dresses him in the softest set of pyjamas he owns. Even though Stiles has relaxed Derek still doesn’t want to leave him alone for a second, so he carries him downstairs to make him a bottle. He makes it almost entirely with milk, so it will taste good, and is very pleased when Stiles immediately latches on and starts to suck mindlessly. 

Stiles is already nodding off when Derek takes him back upstairs. Derek dims the lights, then flips on the little projector that shines soft green waves around the nursery. “Tomorrow will be a nice day,” he promises. “And my baby will never try to run from Daddy again, will he?” 

Stiles shakes his head. His mouth is hanging open as he starts to fall asleep and Derek smiles before putting his pacifier in. He carries the baby over to his crib and puts him inside, nestling his stuffed animal with him. 

It had very nearly been a disaster of a day. But his little boy is safe now and has clearly let any thoughts of running away flee his little head. 

So really, it had all worked out. 

X 

Stiles knows he still has to fight. Maybe straight-up running out the door won’t work for him, but he can still find a way out of here. 

But, well, it had been an awful day. He’d almost _died_. Right now he just wants to feel warm and safe, and hold his puppy close, and hear Derek’s voice crooning to him about what a beautiful little boy he is. 

He’ll start fighting again tomorrow. Tonight he’s just going to sleep in his crib like a good baby boy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forced use of a rectal thermometer and suppositories here, folks.  
> I'll be traveling for a few days so the next chapter might come a bit late. But thank you all for supporting the story! That's what's kept me writing so quickly :)

After the failed escape attempt, Stiles feels…different. Sort of suspended and floaty. Every time he starts to think about getting away it’s like a thick blanket smothers the thoughts, telling him not to worry about it right now. 

When he wakes up the next morning Derek acts like it hadn’t even happened, but Stiles isn’t put into his high chair for breakfast, and he’s only fed a bottle. Solid food must be considered a big-boy privilege. Later, since the playpen toys are on lockdown, he goes back into the bassinet while Derek works. This time he doesn’t feel so out-of-his-skull bored. Just floaty. 

There’s just a bottle for lunch, too. He thinks about throwing a fit but there’s no point. Derek is in charge. And sucking on the bottle feels good. It isn’t a battle worth fighting. 

When night falls he has a bath and doesn’t freak out when Derek tries to wash his privates for the first time ever. Derek is so happy with him he dances Stiles around the nursery while Stiles clings to his neck. “Such a good baby,” Derek praises, and it feels so good to not have Derek mad at him, to not be afraid of what Derek might do. 

They just keep going like that. Stiles is only fed bottles and after a few days he finds he doesn’t even want solid food. The thought of it makes him feel kind of sick, like he knows it’s not meant for him. He’s returned to his playpen, but he’s so lethargic that he doesn’t really feel connected to any toys. He just presses buttons to make sounds, because sounds are nice. 

And the whole time his mind just floats and floats and floats, as if it might float away forever. 

He kind of loses track of time, but he thinks it’s five days after the escape that the floatiness takes a different turn. He wakes up and feels flushed, with a pounding in his head and scratchiness in his throat that makes him whimper. The usual sogginess in his diaper suddenly feels terrible against his body and he kicks, trying to wriggle the diaper off his body. 

He doesn’t even realize Derek is in the room until he’s being lifted out of the crib. “You woke up before Daddy!” Derek coos. 

Stiles stares at him. His face is always kind of bristly, as though the stubble is frozen in time. He wonders if those bristles become the wolf hair when he shifts. He reaches out to touch them so he can check and Derek laughs at him, catching his hand gently. 

“What are you doing? Are you being silly?” 

When Derek starts to carry him over to the changing table the movement makes his head ache and he whimpers again. Derek freezes and puts a hand on his forehead before leaning in to sniff into Stiles’ neck. It feels weird and Stiles tries to shy away. He just wants to curl up into a ball. 

“Oh, no. Is my poor baby sick?” Derek hugs him tightly and takes out his pacifier. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart?” 

Stiles blinks at him. He’s not allowed to use his words. He points to his head. 

“What about your tummy? Does your tummy hurt?” 

Stiles nods, and just like that he feels _awful_. Big tears form in his eyes and Derek croons to him lovingly, adjusting the way he’s being held so he’s snug against Derek’s chest. “Don’t cry, baby boy. It’s okay.” 

He’s laid down gently on the changing table and stripped. He notes dimly that he’s given the extra-thick diaper usually reserved for nighttime. The onesie isn’t replaced and he’s carried over to the rocking chair completely naked except for the diaper. Even so he feels hot all over. He wants to lie back down in his crib and he whimpers again, feeling like that’s the only way he can communicate right now. 

“Sh.” Derek rocks him. “Everything’s going to be all right, sweet boy. Daddy has to know where you’re sick, so you can use your words to tell me anything you need, all right?” 

Stiles just whimpers again. He needs to go home. He needs to crash on his couch with a Gatorade and his afghan. He needs to watch _Judge Joe Brown_ and _The Price is Right_ , like when he was in middle school and stayed home sick… 

For some reason the thought makes tears spill over and Derek makes that crooning sound again. “My poor, poor baby. Daddy’s going to make you all better.” 

X 

Derek tries not to panic. He knows that humans get sick. The Society trained him. But he’s never been sick before, and he doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong with his baby. He remembers all the horrible diseases he’s been warned about and swallows hard. 

“Daddy’s taking care of you,” he coos to Stiles as he pulls out his phone and speed-dials Scott. “Hey,” he says when Scott picks up. “I need you to go to the drugstore with supplies for humans and get everything in the medication aisle.” 

“Aw, is the little guy sick?” 

“Yeah. Be sure to get a thermometer and topical creams, and…just get everything.” Derek smiles reassuringly down at Stiles and ends the call. Stiles has been so good for the last week, not making a single peep out of turn, but now Derek finds himself wishing Stiles would speak so he can tell Derek exactly what’s wrong. “Okay, pumpkin, here’s what we’re going to do. Daddy’s going to ask you how you’re feeling, and you just nod yes or no. Each time you do I’ll give you a big kiss. Can you do that for Daddy?” 

Stiles blinks at him, then nods. “Good boy!” Derek praises, giving him the first kiss on his forehead. “All right. Does it hurt here in your ears?” 

Stiles shakes his head. 

“Good! What about here in your throat?” 

Nod. 

“Chest?” 

Shake. 

“Does your tummy feel like you need to spit up?” 

That takes him a second, but eventually he nods. 

“My poor little prince.” Derek gives him an extra kiss for good measure. “Let’s go downstairs and have some water.” 

Stiles keeps whimpering as Derek carries him downstairs and puts water in a bottle for him. When he tries to put the nipple in Stiles’ mouth Stiles wrinkles his nose and tries to pull away. Derek sighs. “Sweetheart, you need to stay hydrated. That water’s getting down your throat one way or another, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

Stiles’ lip trembles but he reluctantly begins to suck. It takes him a while to drink the whole bottle but he finally gets it all down and closes his eyes, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s chest like a little cat. 

Derek cuddles with him on the couch until Scott arrives, toting five overstuffed bags. Stiles has drifted off into a light doze so Derek lays him down on the couch. “Thanks,” he says quietly to Scott. “I’ll pay you back later.” 

“No worries. The pharmacist said if his fever is under 103 you can just treat it here. I grabbed about every kind of medicine they have and there are some pamphlets on treating common human illnesses.” 

“Great. I’ll call if we need anything else.” 

He reads the fever pamphlet, then digs through the bag and pulls out the baby thermometer and petroleum jelly. Stiles isn’t going to like this, but it has to be done. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, rubbing a circle on Stiles’ shoulder. “Daddy has to take your temperature to see if we need to visit the doctor. It’s very important. If you fight, Daddy will have to strap you down, and Daddy doesn’t want to do that. Okay?” 

Stiles just buries his face in the couch cushions. 

“Lie very still for me, pumpkin.” Derek untapes Stiles’ diaper and sits on the couch, pulling Stiles over his lap. He slicks up the thermometer with the petroleum jelly. “Daddy’s going to put the thermometer in your bottom to see what your temperature is.” 

Stiles immediately starts to thrash and Derek restrains him, holding him down firmly with one hand while parting his buttocks with the other. “Sh, it’ll just be for a second.” He slides it in, keeping Stiles restrained as he waits for the beep. “All done! See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He reads the display: 102.7. 

“Oh no, my poor little baby has a fever.” He tapes Stiles’ diaper back up and lifts him into a hug. Stiles is still sniffling after the temperature reading. “Daddy’s going to get some medicine for you and then give you a nice cool bath, my sweet boy.” 

The liquid Tylenol is supposed to be mixed with formula so the baby will drink it without noticing the taste. Stiles gets fussy again when Derek slides the nipple into his mouth, and after the first gulp he screws up his face and tries to spit it out, but Derek just hushes him and cups his hand around Stiles’ mouth so the baby has no choice but to swallow. It takes a long, long time for the bottle to empty, and Stiles is crying messily by the end of it, but he drinks it all. 

Derek whips him upstairs to the bathroom and runs a cold bath. The pamphlet says to make sure his cheeks and forehead are cooled off so he wrings out a washcloth in cold water and put it across Stiles’ forehead. Stiles actually seems to like that, and he relaxes as Derek gently sponges off the rest of his body. 

Derek keeps him in the bath until he starts to get chilled, then snuggles him in a blanket and carries him back to the couch downstairs. He knows Stiles needs rest but he’s afraid to leave him alone in the crib, so he just lays Stiles down on the couch with his head resting in Derek’s lap, so Derek can stroke his hair and keep the cold washcloth situated. 

Stiles is having trouble getting to sleep and Derek bends to kiss his hot cheek. “Daddy will tell you a bedtime story, sweetheart. Once upon a time there was a little prince named Stiles, who lived with his Daddy in their big house in the woods…” 

Somewhere around the part of the story that little Stiles got lots of kisses from his Daddy for being such a good, smart, perfect baby boy, Derek hears Stiles’ breath even out into sleep. He exhales in relief. He hates the thought of his baby being uncomfortable. 

After two hours Derek has to wake Stiles up so he can take his temperature again. Stiles doesn’t like it any more this time, and Derek is disappointed to see that the fever is still at 102. Stiles tries to slip his thumb into his mouth and Derek tsks— that’s probably how he got sick in the first place. 

He goes to the kitchen to grab some teething rings out of the freezer. “Try this, pumpkin,” he whispers, sliding one into Stiles’ mouth. The baby hums with pleasure and sucks, closing his lips around it adorably. He falls asleep with it still in and drools all over himself, which Derek just finds endlessly endearing. 

He wakes up again for his second dose of medication. After he drinks the bottle he looks pleadingly up at Derek. “Puppy,” he begs, voice scratchy. 

Derek is encouraged to hear Stiles speaking. Maybe he’ll let the baby use his words more often from now on. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go get him.” 

He’s carrying Stiles up the stairs when the baby suddenly stiffens. Even if Derek couldn’t smell it he knows what’s happened instantly as the diaper gets warm and heavy. Stiles immediately bursts into tears. 

“Sh, sh, I’ll take care of it.” Derek whisks him over to the changing table. It’s the messiest change they’ve had so far and Stiles is fussier than even he was when he first woke up, but Derek straps him down tightly and gets him clean. He considers giving Stiles a dose of anti-diarrheal, but he doesn’t want to accidentally block him up. That would only lead to suppositories and a _very_ cranky little boy. 

While he has Stiles held down he decides to take his temperature again. It’s down to 101.2. “Your fever is going down,” he promises as he lifts Stiles up from the changing table and carefully replaces the cold washcloth. “Here’s your doggie. Now, what would make my little prince feel better?” 

Stiles clings to him as Derek sits in the rocking chair. At first Derek thinks he’s not going to answer, but eventually he whispers, “Ice cream.” 

Derek grins, wondering how he got so lucky as to find this perfect boy. “I think Daddy can make that happen for you.” He pulls his phone out again to call Scott. 

When the ice cream arrives Derek makes Stiles a small bowl and carefully feeds it to him. He eats it much more enthusiastically than he took his medicine but when the bowl is empty he starts sniffling again. “What is it, baby?” 

“Hurts,” Stiles whines. 

“Where does it hurt, sweetheart?” 

Stiles whimpers, shivering in Derek’s lap. “M-my tummy.” 

Derek has to hide a smile at how adorably childish he sounds. “Are you going to spit up?” 

He gets his answer a second later when Stiles stiffens and he rushes to get Stiles to the toilet faster than he’s ever moved before. Stiles gags over the bowl before curling up in a circle on the rug, crying in earnest again. Derek gets him some water and then picks him up to carry him back to the nursery. “C-cold,” Stiles hiccups. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Daddy will wrap you nice and tight in a blanket.” 

Stiles rubs his head against Derek’s chest plaintively again. “You’re warm,” he whispers, teeth chattering so severely Derek almost can’t understand him. 

“Do you want to keep cuddling with Daddy?” 

Stiles nods and turns his face totally into Derek’s chest. Derek grabs a fur blanket and drapes it over them both in the rocking chair. “There,” he says lovingly. “Now we’re all snug and toasty.” 

Stiles drifts back off to sleep in Derek’s arms. He messes his diaper again about an hour later and wakes up wailing. His fever is back up so Derek gives him another cool bath and prepares another medicated bottle, but Stiles just throws it up within minutes. It keeps coming out of him at both ends all through the afternoon and night, and Derek is starting to get frantic. When the next morning hits and the fever hits 102.9, he knows serious steps must be taken. 

“Daddy needs to make his beautiful boy all better,” he tells Stiles gently, rocking him back and forth. “But Daddy’s poor baby can’t keep his medicine down, so Daddy has to give him special medicine or we’ll have to go see the doctor.” 

“No doctor,” Stiles sniffles. 

“No, little lamb. No doctor if your special medicine works.” Derek considers sedating Stiles for this, but he’d probably just spit it up and it might make the whole experience more traumatic. “The medicine goes in your bottom like the thermometer does.” 

Stiles’ eyes fill with tears, but he doesn’t start fighting away as Derek feared. “No, Da— no!” 

Derek’s heart lifts. The baby had caught himself just in time, but he’d been _this close_ to calling Derek “Daddy.” “Yes, sweetheart. This will make you feel all better. It’ll make your fever go down, and stop you from spitting up. Once you’re a little better you can have more ice cream, how does that sound?” 

“Don’t want it!” Stiles sobs. 

“I know you don’t, but Daddy knows best. We’ll do it right now and if you can be my good boy and lie nice and still Daddy will give you a present.” 

Stiles keeps crying but he doesn’t struggle when Derek lays him across his lap and takes off his diaper. He’s already brought up the Tylenol suppositories and he takes one out and moistens it with water before parting Stiles’ cheeks. “Don’t clench, little boy, Daddy doesn’t want this to hurt.” 

He carefully inserts the tip, hushing Stiles’ wails. He uses his index finger to push it in, smiling in satisfaction at the way Stiles opens for it. “You did it, sweetheart! All done.” 

“Burns… _don’t like it_ …” 

“I know, but it’s all finished, we just have to wait for the nice medicine to do its work.” He replaces Stiles’ diaper and gives him a big hug. “Now you get a present for being so brave. Daddy will go downstairs and get it.” 

Stiles whimpers and clings to him when he tries to put Stiles down, and his heart just melts all over again. “You want to go downstairs with me, sweetheart?” 

Stiles nods, and who is Derek to deny him? He carries Stiles down, stopping to fill up another bottle of water in the hopes Stiles can keep it down. He’s put Stiles’ present in the closet and he grabs it out proudly. “Daddy got you a friend for your puppy.” 

It’s a stuffed kitten, with the softest fur Derek has ever felt. Stiles has been loving pretty hard on the puppy and Derek figured it would be a good idea to have a backup stuffed animal in case of a disaster. “Thank you,” Stiles whispers so softly Derek can barely hear him, taking it and hugging it tightly. 

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Daddy likes to buy his little boy presents, because his little boy deserves nice things. Now, how do you feel? Do you think you can lay in your crib and take a nap? Daddy will stay right in the rocking chair the whole time.” 

Stiles nods again and Derek carries him upstairs. He dresses him in pyjamas and puts him in the crib with his new stuffed animal. “If you wake up and your fever is higher, we have to go to the doctor.” 

“No,” Stiles mumbles petulantly, already curling into a ball and closing his eyes. 

Derek is so exhausted that he ends up passing out in the rocking chair. When he opens his eyes the shadows on the wall have moved, indicating it’s early afternoon. He freaks out and dashes to the crib, relaxing when he sees Stiles is still sleeping so sweetly. He touches the boy’s cheek and sighs in relief. It’s cool. It must have been some kind of twenty-four-hour bug. “Time to wake up, sweetheart,” he whispers, carefully lifting Stiles’ out. 

Stiles yawns adorably and smacks his lips. 

“Does my little prince need water? Daddy will get you a bottle just as soon as we take your temperature. 

The return to health also means a return to attitude and Stiles’ eyes flash open. “No!” 

“Yes, Daddy needs to see if you still have a fever.” 

“I don’t like it! No!” 

“Sh, Daddy will be very quick, and if your fever is all gone you can have some more yummy ice cream.” Derek can tell that Stiles isn’t going to make this easy and rather than have to hold him down he just straps him facedown to the changing table and strips off his diaper. 

Stiles makes a fuss, but Derek takes his temperature, rubbing his back soothingly. 99.1. He feels faint with relief. “No more temperature!” he coos, lifting Stiles to give him a big kiss in celebration. 

Stiles still looks disgruntled about having his temperature read. 

“Now my little boy gets ice cream for being such a good little baby while he was sick.” Derek dresses Stiles in a new diaper and onesie, humming a little under his breath. “Daddy was thinking that maybe you deserve a special new privilege” he says casually as they start downstairs. “I think my little boy should be allowed to use his words as long as he shows Daddy he can use them correctly.” 

Stiles can’t hide his excitement at that. “All the time?” 

“Well, when Daddy asks a question or my little baby has something important to say. But no cursing, sweetheart. _Ever._ I don’t want to take your new privilege away.” They reach the kitchen and Derek gets a bottle of water and the promised ice cream. “Here you go, sweetheart. What do you say?” 

Stiles blushes. “T-thank you.” 

“Thank you…?” 

“For the ice cream?” 

“No, thank you to _whom?_ ” 

Stiles looks like a deer caught in headlights. “I…I…” 

“Stiles, if you can’t use your words correctly, Daddy won’t let you use them at all.” 

His sweet little baby’s face is tomato-red. “Thank you, Daddy,” he whispers. 

“You’re very welcome! Now, let’s get all this yummy ice cream in your belly.” Derek sits and feeds the treat to his little boy, trying not to look smug. 

It won’t be long before Stiles is completely his, body and soul.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this! I've returned home so hopefully the next chapter will be up much faster.

“I know what my little boy needs,” Derek says the next day, Stiles snuggled into his lap on the couch. “Some fresh air.” 

Stiles makes a noncommittal sound. He’s still pretty tired out and it feels nice to be cozy against Derek’s chest. The puppy is currently being used as a pillow and he’s kind of in the mood to just have naptime right here. 

“Would you like that, baby? Taking a walk with Daddy?” 

Stiles frowns. He hasn’t been outside since the escape, and he thinks it would be humiliating to have people see him like this, but fresh air does sound good, and surely Derek wouldn’t carry him the whole time. “Okay,” he says a little dubiously. 

“Okay!” Derek sits him up, kisses the top of his head, and disappears towards the hall closet. Stiles hears some sounds and Derek comes back a minute later with a puffy blue jacket. Stiles would rather just be allowed real clothes again and lose the onesie, but he figures he shouldn’t complain. He doesn’t get shoes, which is kind of weird… 

“Arms up,” Derek says cheerfully, getting him into the jacket before carrying him into the hall. When they get to the hall Stiles’ stomach sinks. Waiting is a stroller all ready to go. There’s a frilly canopy and a tray and, he sees, straps on the inside to keep him restrained. “No,” he whines. 

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You don’t like your big-boy stroller? Daddy has another one we can use.” He opens the closet door to show Stiles an unopened box with a picture on the front. It’s a baby stroller, which would keep him practically on his back, staring upwards so Derek could coo down at him. Just the image makes him blush. He points to the big-boy stroller. 

Derek gets him inside, only using the strap across his waist, which feels enough like a seatbelt that he tries to ignore it. Derek tucks his puppy into his arms and maneuvers him out the door. 

It’s sunny and warm out. It’s weird being wheeled down the street like this but the air streams past him soothingly and the sun feels really good on his face. “That yellow house is where Aunt Erica and Uncle Boyd live,” Derek says. “And there’s Uncle Peter, maybe he’ll bring his puppy out for a walk and we can say hello.” 

When they reach the end of the street Stiles gets nervous they’re going to turn left and go to the place with the sadistic wolves, but instead Derek turns right. “They have a nice park down this way for babies like you. Maybe we can meet some others, I think it’s time you make some friends your own age.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. 

As they keep going Stiles sees a jogger heading their way. She stops by the stroller and Stiles freezes, praying she’ll just continue on her way. “Hey, Alpha Hale!” 

“Carol, hi.” Derek sounds pleased to see her. “How are you doing?” 

“Great! Just grabbing a jog while Johnnie’s taking his nap.” She bends to look in at Stiles. “Aww, hi cutie-pie! I saw the pictures you’ve been posting but he’s even more adorable in person!” 

Stiles wants to die. Derek’s been sharing _pictures_ of him like this? 

“You should bring him by for a playdate soon.” She reaches in to tickle him, totally oblivious or indifferent to the way he tries to jerk away. “Huh, little guy? You want to play with some other babies? Aw, you have a little doggie here? Is this your little doggie?” 

“Sounds great,” Derek says as Stiles tries to thrash away from the woman, clutching the puppy protectively. “I’ll give you a call and set it up. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Johnnie, how’s he doing?” 

“Oh, he’s just fine. We actually got pictures taken again…” she scrounges for her wallet and opens it open, pausing to show Stiles. “This is _my_ little boy. He’s a baby just like you!” 

Stiles can see a grown man in a sailor suit. He’s laughing happily, arms reached towards the camera. It’s clearly a professional shot done in some kind of studio. “You’ll have to get your little one’s pictures taken soon,” the woman says cheerfully. “George is a master at them, we ended up hanging three on our wall since we couldn’t choose.” 

Derek _awws_ at the pictures and Stiles has a sinking suspicion that it won’t be long before Derek has something very similar in his own wallet. 

“Well, we’ll set up a playdate soon. Once they start playing with others the regression really starts to kick in. When we first got Johnnie we’d given him the shot so all he could do was babble, and he was so adorably frustrated with not being able to communicate with us, but when the Smiths brought over their little girl who could only babble too it was like they developed this whole secret language. God, so cute. I miss those days.” 

“I heard a rumor you’re getting another.” 

“We are! I want a girl this time. We’ll see what’s available at the next adoption day.” She crouches back down and tickles Stiles again. “Bye, little guy!” 

Temper gets the best of him and he smacks her hands away. She just chuckles. “Ooh, someone’s a cranky baby. I don’t miss _those_ days. See you, Derek!” 

Stiles sits completely still, shaking with anger and humiliation. Derek keeps pushing the stroller forward as if nothing happened. A few other people call out to him, but thankfully don’t stop to chat. When they reach the end of the block they turn around and start back home. 

Derek doesn’t take him out of the stroller until they’re all the way inside. “That was fun, wasn’t it, sweetheart?” Derek says cheerfully as he bends down to unstrap Stiles. “I bet you’re looking forward to playing with Johnnie. We’ll get you lots of little friends, don’t you worry…” 

Hatred surges inside of Stiles, and he wants to hurt Derek so badly that he hurls the stuffed dog at him with all his force. 

Derek catches it easily and tucks it under his arm. “Oh. Is this mine now? Thank you so much.” He picks Stiles up and carries him over to the bouncer, which he points towards the television. Stiles hasn’t been allowed to watch television yet and it feels almost jarring when Derek turns it on. It’s already turned to the baby channel. “Why don’t you watch some television, and I’ll decide what I want to do with _my_ new toy.” 

He walks out of the room still holding the dog and Stiles scowls. He doesn’t care. It’s just a stupid stuffed animal. He only holds it to placate Derek anyway. He has more important things to think about. 

That woman on the street had made him feel like a baby. He hates her, and he hates Derek for going along with her. He hates everyone here. He wonders how many people are trapped here like him. That boy in the picture had been laughing like he _loves_ this life. Was it all an act, or had his brain just turned to mush? 

Is that eventually going to happen to _him?_

He realizes he’s hugging himself, trying hard to replicate the feeling of clutching his puppy. He wants it back. Derek had taken away everything from him, but the puppy _belongs_ to him. Sure, it’s just a toy, but it’s the only thing that he feels like he actually owns. 

Even when he tries to focus on the television he just keeps hugging himself. He thinks of how soft his puppy’s fur is, how nice it feels when it rubs against his cheek. What if Derek throws it away, or rips it apart as a punishment? 

Fat tears start rolling down his cheeks. Stupid. So stupid, stupid, stupid. But he still feels exhausted from being sick and that woman had humiliated him and he just wants his puppy back. 

Derek walks back into the room with the puppy still under his arm and sighs when he sees Stiles’ face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ he asks, turning off the television. 

Stiles sniffles and points to the puppy. 

“You want your doggie back?” 

He nods. 

“Was it nice of you to throw it at Daddy?” 

His thumb is creeping towards his mouth, and he gives in and sucks it in the hopes it softens Derek. He shakes his head. 

“So what do you say?” 

“I’m s-sorry, Daddy.” 

“That’s right.” Derek’s voice is soft. He bends to his knees and wipes Stiles’ face. “Daddy knows his little boy gets fussy, but no tantrums. And Daddy won’t have his baby acting up around Daddy’s friends. You weren’t very nice to Carol. Until Daddy’s sure his little one knows how to be a sweet baby, the puppy will go into the closet.” 

Stiles’ jaw drops at the unfairness of that. “No!” 

“Yes, Daddy has decided.” Derek walks over and puts the puppy in the closet, shutting the door tightly. Stiles wants to grab it from him but he’s strapped down and he can’t move. He feels helpless. “Now, if my little boy is still feeling well enough, we can go upstairs and you can play in your playpen. If you behave maybe the puppy can come back out for night-night.” 

“No!” Stiles is crying again. “Please, D-Daddy, not the closet! Don’t put him there!” 

“The closet is where the toys go when Stiles misbehaves,” Derek says sternly. 

Stiles stamps his feet as best he can in the bouncer. “No! No, no, _no!”_

The closet is _bad_ , it’s dark and he can’t see and the shelves dig into his back. The closet is where he has to stand when his foster mom, the worst foster mom, says he’s been bad, and it’s hard to breathe in there, and someday she’s going to forget about him and leave him there _forever_ … 

He’s wheezing for breath as he remembers. The closet is where things go when he’s bad. It’s where _he_ goes when he’s bad. But he _doesn’t like it_ … 

“Sweetheart.” He can hardly hear Derek over the pounding of his heart, but he can feel Derek unstrapping him and pulling him close. “Sh, sh. I need you to breathe in and out. Just in and out, can you do that for Daddy?” His hand rubs a circle on Stiles’ back. “What’s wrong with my baby? The doggie only has to stay in the closet for a little while.” 

“Not the closet,” Stiles wails again. Derek doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand what happens in the closet. There are bad thoughts and it hurts and it feels like all the parts of him are turning to sand and crumbing away. 

“Okay.” Derek picks him up and carries him to the closet. _No!_ He’s going to put Stiles inside! “No, Daddy!” Stiles sobs, clinging to him. 

“Sh, sh.” Derek opens the door and grabs the puppy. “He’s okay, see? He was just taking a little time-out. Here you go, give him a big hug.” 

Stiles grabs the dog and squeezes it before Derek can change his mind. He doesn’t want to look inside the closet and he hides his face with the dog. Derek carries him over to the couch and cuddles him. “Sh, my sweet boy,” he whispers. “Everything’s all right.” 

It takes Stiles a while before he stops crying. Derek helps him blow his nose. “Is there a reason my little prince is afraid of the closet?” Derek asks softly. 

Stiles nods. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore so he doesn’t say anything, just rubs the puppy’s fur against his cheek. “I’m s-s-sorry, Daddy. I won’t be b-bad anymore…” 

“I know, sweetheart. It’s all right. Daddy has a rule that he’ll never take away hugs and kisses as punishment, remember? Now Daddy will promise that he’ll never take the puppy away and put him in the closet as punishment either. How does that sound?” 

“T-Thank you, Daddy.” Stiles is exhausted again. After being so sick yesterday and meeting that woman, he was probably due for a breakdown, but right now he just wants to feel better. 

Derek shifts so they’re back to the position they were in this morning, with Stiles laying on top of Derek. The puppy lies under Stiles’ head like a pillow and Derek reaches up to pet it. “Does the doggie have a name?” Derek asks. 

Stiles thinks for a second, pulling the puppy back into his arms so he can cuddle it hard. “Sheriff,” he whispers. 

His real dad had been a sheriff. Stiles doesn’t remember him, but he’d had his old badge. One of his better foster families had shined it up and put it into a shadowbox for him. A few years later one of his foster brothers had smashed the box and pawned the badge for a couple bucks. 

He used to have dreams that his father could somehow come back and smash down the door of his foster home and shoot the bad people there and carry Stiles away. 

Thinking of that makes his eyes fill up with tears again and Derek hushes him, kissing his cheek. “That’s a very nice name,” Derek says gently. He probably knows about Stiles’ dad. Of course he does. He knows everything. 

Stiles closes his eyes. Derek lets him lie there until he falls asleep. 

X 

**One Week Later**

“C’mere, pup!” Derek scoops Stiles up from the living room floor, where he had been stacking blocks as he watched Dora the Explorer. He had to do _something_ to amuse himself during TV-time, since he had absolutely zero interest in a children’s cartoon. 

“Not a pup,” Stiles grumbles, a little rankled about being taken away from his tower. 

“Yes, you are, you’re Daddy’s little pup.” Derek smacks a kiss on his cheek. He’s in an exceedingly good mood today. “Guess what? We’re going to run some errands together. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

Stiles’ heart sinks. After the disastrous stroller outing a week ago he has no interest in being seen in public again. 

Derek carries him to the nursery. “Okay, baby boy. Daddy’s packing a diaper bag to take with us, but I don’t want you to have to sit in a messy diaper until we can find a changing table. Do you think you can go potty right now?” 

Stiles freezes. He’s never actually had to _make_ himself go in his diaper, it’s just kind of happened without his permission. But the thought of wetting or shitting himself in public is so horrific that he nods and strains, trying to make himself go. It’s _hard_. 

“How about some help from Daddy?” Derek gently pushes him down, then presses on his stomach. This is so, so humiliating, but going in public would be worse, so he grunts and lets the diaper fill. 

“Good boy!” Derek kisses him and quickly changes the diaper. He dresses Stiles in a weird outfit, a bright red shirt and overalls instead of his usual onesie. Derek looks at him critically for a second, then smiles in satisfaction and lifts him off the table. “All, right, let’s go!” He grabs Sheriff and pops him into the diaper bag. 

Stiles is put into the car seat again— he hates it, but he knows better than to whine. When Derek starts the car he turns on a CD full of upbeat children’s songs. Actually, children’s might be putting it generously. The CD is clearly for babies. Some kind of song about a barnyard starts playing, with the singer making animal sounds, and Derek looks at Stiles in the rearview mirror. “Can you make a sound like a moo cow?” he coos. 

Stiles blushes so hard his cheeks burn and turns to stare out the window. He wonders what kind of “errands” Derek has to run. Hopefully something that doesn’t involve a lot of bystanders… 

It’s about fifteen minutes before Derek pulls into a parking lot. They’re in front of a small building, and Stiles is pleased to note there aren’t many cars around. Derek unbuckles him from the car seat and caries him across the lot. “Wait till you see what Daddy has planned,” he says as he rings the buzzer at the door. 

Stiles starts to get a bad feeling. 

A man comes to open the door, smiling at them. “Glad you made it! Come on in.” 

“Thanks for fitting us in so quickly, George.” Derek carries Stiles inside. It’s a brightly lit portrait studio, and a blue backdrop with clouds is already set up. 

“I’m glad to do it. I love photographing the really new ones, they get fussy but you’ll be glad to have the memories.” George beams at Stiles. “You ready to get your picture taken, little buddy?” 

Oh _no_. Stiles had a feeling Derek wanted this, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so soon. He shakes his head, looking at Derek pleadingly, but Derek just chuckles and carries him over to the set. “Daddy wants lots of nice pictures of his beautiful little boy,” Derek tells him, pulling a little comb out of the diaper bag to fuss with Stiles’ hair. He hands Sheriff to Stiles, arranging the dog in his arms so he’s clutching it against his chest. 

The photographer messes with the lights, shining them down brightly right on Stiles. He wants to run, but he can’t, and Derek just keeps beaming at him. “All right, looks good,” the photographer calls, and Derek gives Stiles a kiss before walking to stand behind the camera. Stiles stares slack-jawed at the photographer and is almost blinded by the first flash. 

He cringes away from it, staring all around himself for some kind of escape. “Sweetheart, look here!” Derek calls. Stiles can see him waving the stuffed kitten at him. “Look at Daddy!” 

Stiles hugs Sheriff defensively, lip wobbling. _Flash. Flash. Flash._

“Can you smile, baby? Give Daddy a big smile.” 

Stiles shakes his head. He won’t. Derek can’t make him. 

“They always need a little bit of time to warm up,” George says. “The way he’s holding the dog is great, though. You’ll love these. Here, I’ll change the background quick.” 

As he works to do so Derek comes back over and puts a beanie on Stiles. “Adorable,” he praises. “I’m going to just take Sheriff and hold him, okay? But here you go, play with this.” He puts a rattle in Stiles’ hand. “Now, I know I can get my happy boy to give me that big beautiful smile eventually. We’ll just keep taking pictures until you’re ready.” 

Stiles considers hurling the rattle at him, but he saw how well that worked last time. George comes back around to the camera. “Okay, honey, look here and smile!” 

The flashes are _awful_ and he doesn’t want to be here. He considers just letting himself cry but honestly Derek would probably just find that adorable too. He has no doubt that Derek is more than happy to stay here until Stiles finally smiles, no matter how long it takes, and as the flashes keep blinding him he considers just doing it so he can be done and get out of here. 

“Stiles, sweetheart, wave your rattle!” 

Oh, God. Fuck it. He looks towards the camera and offers a shy, hesitant smile. 

Derek and the photographer both go nuts. Stiles keeps the smile plastered on his face for a few minutes before stopping, horrified. What is he doing? Derek is going to _show these_ to people. He’ll have copies in his wallet just like Carol did and tell everyone about what a happy baby Stiles is… 

The flashes stop and Derek rushes towards him, beaming. “My perfect little prince,” he coos, taking out a pacifier and pushing it into Stiles’ mouth. It doesn’t have a strap and he tries to spit it out, but Derek just tsks and pushes it back in. 

Once he’s fussed over Stiles some more Derek takes the beanie and steps off to the side. There are a few more flashes and then the photographer calls, “Let’s get a couple with you, Derek.” 

Derek steps back into frame and takes out the pacifier. He kisses Stiles’ forehead as the flash goes off, then pulls him into his arms. Stiles looks up at him and Derek beams, giving Sheriff back to him. The flashes come fast and furious and Stiles turns into Derek’s chest to avoid it, feeling like he’s just giving up. 

“Excellent!” George says. The lights over them dim. “Derek, you’re going to absolutely love these. Come take a look.” 

Derek carries Stiles over to the camera to look at the pictures. There’s Stiles on the verge of tears. Stiles clutching Sheriff. Stiles looking away, face distracted just like a baby who heard a noise. Stiles awkwardly holding his rattle. Stiles smiling at the camera. Stiles sucking his pacifier. Stiles staring up at Derek while Derek smiles down at him. “Oh, wow,” Derek says at that one. “I think that’s my favorite already.” 

“Yeah, that’s great. These are fantastic, I might use one or two in my promotional materials from now on. I’ll have the proofs to you by Wednesday, sound good?” 

“Sounds great.” Derek grabs the diaper bag. “Say thank-you to the nice man,” he coos to Stiles. 

Stiles mumbles something that Derek deems good enough. 

Derek gives him a bunch of kisses on his cheek as they walk across the parking lot. “We’ll give copies to all your aunties and uncles, and put some on Daddy’s desk, and in the living room. Daddy wants everyone to see what a beautiful little boy he has.” 

He’s so happy that Stiles weirdly feels _guilty_ for being upset about the pictures. Is this how Stockholm Syndrome starts? 

Derek buckles him back into his car seat. “Now we have one more errand to run together. I think my little boy is good enough to go grocery shopping with Daddy. What do you think?” 

Grocery shopping? People will see him like this. But he _does_ want to get a better sense for where he’s being held, and if there’s anyone who can help him. He nods slowly. 

As they drive he keeps a careful eye out the window. Everything looks so…normal. It’s just a regular town. He wonders how far they are from the _next_ town, where surely nobody knows what goes on here. Maybe he just hadn’t run far enough during his escape. Unless they’re on an island or something there has to be a way out. 

His musings are interrupted when they reach the store and Derek unbuckles him. “Should we take Sheriff?” he asks as he lifts Stiles from the car. 

Stiles shakes his head. There are a lot of cars here. It would be too embarrassing for anyone to see him cuddling a stuffed animal like a baby. 

“Okay.” Derek carries him across the lot. He stops in the lobby to grab a shopping cart. There are a bunch of different ones— some with tiny seats obviously meant for actual children, and some with larger seats. There are also carts with adult-sized car sear type cradlers built in where the seat normally would be, to keep someone on their back staring up at the person shopping the cart. Derek goes right for one of them. 

“I can sit, Daddy,” Stiles pleads. 

“No, sweetheart, this is safer.” Derek straps him in and rolls him inside. The store is busy. He sees a woman pushing an actual toddler and blushes to think he’s being treated even younger than that _actual_ baby. He looks around to see if there’s anyone else like him here. When his gaze reaches the front of the store his stomach turns. There’s a girl his age being changed right outside the bathroom. The table comes down from the wall just like it would in a bathroom, but _everyone can see_. She lies there placidly, sucking her thumb as a werewolf wipes clean all that smooth pink skin. 

Derek sees where he’s looking and smiles, patting Stiles’ thigh soothingly. “Changing tables in bathrooms are for tiny babies,” he tells Stiles. “Grown-up babies like you need to learn not to be embarrassed about having their diaper changed.” 

Stiles immediately focuses everything inside of him on _not_ using his diaper. He’ll die before he lets people see that. 

Derek wheels him up and down the aisles, grabbing things and putting them in the cart. It’s not all raw meat or anything, everything seems to be just as it would in a normal grocery store. Until they get to the baby aisle. “Here are all the supplies for you,” Derek says as he wheels Stiles past the shelves. “Let’s see, we have diapers…more powder…” 

Stiles can see boxes of formula. There are different types. _Digetalx: to keep your little one regular! Humatex: Formula to disrupt brain activity and support regression. Soothamin: Make your fussy baby docile with our special calming blend…_ Derek grabs _Laterol: Promote muscle fatigue and hormone rebalancing in new babies (Now in vanilla!)_ and puts it in the cart. There’s a picture on it of a grown man sucking his thumb, looking like he’s about to cry. 

Well. No wonder Stiles has been so emotional lately and can’t get to his feet. He knew there was something off about that formula. 

He hears rattling from the opposite direction and Derek looks up and smiles. “Jordan, hey.” 

“Hey, Derek.” A face peers around the cart to look at Stiles. It’s Jordan, the cop he’d thought had saved him. “Hey there, buddy. Looks like he’s doing better. No more running away, I hope?” 

“No more. He’s perfect,” Derek says proudly. He smiles at something behind Jordan. “Hiya, Jackie.” 

Jordan wheels the cart forward and Stiles can see a boy his age sitting up in the seat. He’s wearing bright clothes and is playing with some kind of handheld video game. Another baby like Stiles, though this one is apparently allowed to act a few years older. “Hi-hi,” Jackie says, not taking his eyes away from the game. His voice is high-pitched. If Stiles wasn’t looking at him he’d think it was a real toddler talking. 

“Is this your first time out with him?” 

“Yep! He’s doing great.” Derek beams at Stiles. “Good enough that I think he deserves a new toy before we leave.” 

Jordan laughs. “Don’t get him the video games, I beg of you. Jack barely looks up from his.” 

“Daddy, I want juice,” Jack says. 

“We already got juice, buddy.” 

“I want popsicles.” 

“No, they rot your teeth.” 

Jack pouts. A pretty redheaded woman walks down the aisle. “Jordan, did you grab the economy box of pull-ups?” 

“Mommy, I want popsicles!” 

“Daddy already said no,” Jordan scolds. He looks at Derek and rolls his eyes. “Never teach Stiles to talk. You’ll regret it.” 

“I’ve actually decided to just let him keep talking. Makes things easier. 

“Oh, that’s no fun!” Jordan tickles Jack, making him shriek and kick his legs in delight. “We had lots of fun teaching you how to talk again after you’d forgotten, didn’t we Jackie? What was your first word, huh?” 

“Daddy!” Jack shrieks happily. 

“Oh, he was saying Mama way before that,” the woman scolds. “I have to agree though, Derek, hearing them babble as they learn is the cutest thing. It’s easy even without the shot. Just use the right formula to erode the language center of the brain, then wait about two years or so before teaching him again. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezie, right Jackie-Jack?” 

Stiles shudders and wishes with all his heart he’d let Derek bring Sheriff in with them. 

“Feel free to set up a playdate soon,” Jordan offers. “I know Jackson’s a bit older than Stiles, but they can still have fun.” 

“I’ll do that, thanks.” 

There are a few more moments of pleasantries before Derek finally wheels Stiles down the aisle, picking up a few more supplies along the way. At the end of the aisle where the toys are he looks over them critically before grabbing a toy train and putting it in the cart. “Thank you, Daddy,” Stiles says softly, thinking that it’s in his best interest to be polite. 

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. Let’s go home now and get you in your crib for your nap.” Derek wheels him to the checkout. The checkout girl coos at him a little but other than it it’s relatively quick and painless. Derek carries him back out to the car and straps him into the car seat. “You were such a good boy for Daddy,” he whispers. “Daddy is so, so proud of his beautiful boy.” 

Stiles just nods and holds out his arms to silently ask for Sheriff. Derek smiles and gives it to him, kissing the top of his head. 

He dozes off on the ride home and barely registers Derek carrying him upstairs to the crib. Derek puts him in jammies and cuddles him tightly before putting him in his crib. “It was nice to meet Jackie, wasn’t it, pup?” Derek says softly. “We’ll get you a proper playdate soon. Night-night, little prince.” 

Stiles closes his eyes. His last thought before he goes to sleep is that he knows he can’t avoid a “playdate” much longer. Maybe he’ll get lucky and he’ll find any ally, someone to help him escape. But he has a bad feeling that he might be the only captive here who’s still fighting. 

And if he doesn’t do something soon to get free, he might not be able to fight at all for much longer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning that in this chapter we meet a Mommy and Daddy who aren't nearly as nice as Derek, and there's some light sexual content and dehumanization. With that said it's probably time for me to make the standard disclaimer that I do not condone anything like this in the real world, Derek is an unreliable narrator and does not represent my own views, all of this is fiction, etc.  
> Thank you to all those who have prompted ideas for this story here or over at Tumblr! Most of my tumblr submissions have been for things that will only really work once Stiles has fully regressed, so don't worry if you haven't seen them yet, I'll include them soon :) I'm thinking this story will be like 3 or 4 more chapters so if you'd like to see anything else in here now's the time to prompt!

When the next pack meeting comes, Stiles goes back in his bouncer so he won’t be passed around again. Derek must have warned his packmates not to overwhelm Stiles, since they don’t immediately rush over and try to pick him up or anything. 

Kira comes over after a few minutes of waiting for the rest to arrive and bends down by him. “Hi there,” she says softly. “You remember me, right? Aunt Kira?” 

He nods a bit guardedly. 

“I have a present for you.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a big swatch of red fabric. “It’s a superhero cape! You put it around your neck, see? And your Daddy told us about your friend Sheriff, so I made one for him, too.” She shakes out a smaller piece of fabric. “Want me to put in on him?” 

Stiles can feel Derek watching him so he nods to be polite. Kira smiles and puts the cape around Sheriff’s neck. “There! He can fly now!” 

“Kira Yukimura, what do you think you’re doing?” Erica drops down next to them. “Bribing your way into his heart? That is calculating.” 

“Hey, I just happen to know what little guys like him enjoy.” She beams at Stiles. “When I was growing up, my family had a baby just like you! I still go play with him sometimes.” 

Stiles frowns. He’d never thought about the captives here being raised alongside actual children. What if Derek is planning on getting married and having kids of his own, letting them grow up while expecting Stiles to stay stuck as a baby? 

Erica laughs, reading his mind. “Don’t worry, honey. Your Daddy is never getting mated. It’ll just be you and him, forever. Now, Auntie Erica has something for you too.” She presents him an elaborate lollipop. “Ta-da!” 

His eyes go wide. He hasn’t had something sweet since the ice cream when he was sick. He reaches for it eagerly as she unwraps it. 

“Erica, what are you doing?” Derek’s voice is disapproving. “Sugar isn’t part of his diet.” 

“Oh, relax, Derek. He deserves a treat.” 

“Sweetheart, don’t eat that. You’ll get a tummyache.” 

Stiles looks at Derek pleadingly, the lollipop halfway to his mouth. He wants it more than he thinks he’s ever wanted anything before. “Please, Daddy?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah.” Erica puts her head close to his and gives Derek puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Daddy?” 

Derek rolls his eyes and grudgingly nods. Stiles immediately sticks the lollipop in his mouth and almost moans at the taste. Erica grins at him and puts her hand up for a high-five, which he returns without even thinking about it. _Sucker,_ he sees her mouth at Kira as they return to the couch. 

The pack starts talking about stuff, but Stiles is honestly too busy enjoying his lollipop to listen. He’s been begging Derek to let him go back to solids, since he knows what the formula is doing to him, but so far he’s only been allowed applesauce, rice pudding, and the occasional pureed dish of vegetables to keep him “regular.” He doesn’t care if his lollipop will make him sick later. Derek will just rub his belly until he feels better. He’s probably just imagining it, but whenever something hurts on him Derek just has to touch him and it feels like the pain goes away. 

He doesn’t tune back in to the conversation until his lollipop is gone. Scott is energetically talking: “As far as I know, Raeken challenged Daniels for Alphahood out of the blue. He won, but didn’t kill Daniels out of mercy, or maybe just because he knew some betas would stay loyal to Daniels no matter what. So now the pack is split. Raeken took maybe seventy percent of the betas and Daniels is licking his wounds.” 

Derek is frowning thoughtfully. “What do you know about Raeken?” 

“Not much. He always seemed pretty quiet. I never would have figured him for this.” 

“Hmm.” Derek looks pensive. “I was never a fan of Daniels. But I wouldn’t mind another ally pack. If Raeken is decent his new pack would be a good one to have in our corner. We can send an envoy over but I hate to be so formal without knowing him.” 

“Raeken has two humans,” Peter says. He’d been sitting in a corner chair looking out the window as if he wasn’t paying attention. “In the same position as your Stiles. Perhaps you could set up a little playdate for them and test out Raeken. Things are always civil with the little ones involved.” 

Stiles freezes. 

“That’s a good idea, Peter. I think I’ll do that.” Derek smiles reassuringly at Stiles. “I’ll call this afternoon.” 

For the rest of the meeting Stiles sits in his bouncer and worries. How is he supposed to act around other captives? Will he get a chance to speak to them privately and plan an escape, or is it all an elaborate trap? 

Derek must be able to tell that he’s worried, because after his bedtime story Derek gives him a few extra minutes of cuddles. “Daddy’s set up your playdate tomorrow,” he says. “What do you think, sweetheart? Are you ready to make some friends?” 

Stiles makes a face. 

“I know it’s scary, pup. But everyone will love you. Daddy wants you to be happy, and that means having people to play with.” Derek carries him to the crib. “You’ll have fun tomorrow. I promise.” 

When morning dawns Stiles is still worried. He even considers fighting Derek while he’s being changed, but it would be pointless and might result in him having to wear his pacifier or be drugged out of his mind. 

“It’s okay if you feel shy,” Derek tells him as he’s buckled into his car seat. “I won’t be mad or disappointed if this doesn’t work out. Just try to relax and have a good time.” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispers. 

His heart clangs in his chest when they drive out of Derek’s territory. He knows that means he’s being indoctrinated, trained to believe it’s not safe to leave, but all the can think of are those horrible wolves who chased him. 

“Daddy?” he asks nervously. He doesn’t usually initiate conversation, but he’s scared. “W-what if they try to hurt us?” 

Derek looks at him in the rearview mirror and smiles reassuringly. “They won’t, baby. We’ve been invited onto their territory and that comes with a guarantee of safety. Besides, would Daddy ever let anyone hurt you?” 

Stiles shakes his head and pets Sheriff to keep himself calm. Eventually Derek pulls into a driveway and comes to unbuckle him. “It’s okay,” he says one more time. It’s like he can hear Stiles’ racing heart. “You’re going to have lots of fun and then we’ll go home and relax. Daddy’s going to be right here the whole time.” 

When Derek rings the doorbell a young-looking guy answers. “Alpha Hale. Welcome.” 

“Thank you, Alpha Raeken.” Derek jiggles Stiles so he’ll look up. “This is my little boy, Stiles.” 

Raeken smiles at him. It’s not a nice smile, but Stiles doesn’t think Derek can tell. “He’s a little big for one of my babies and a little young for the other, but I’m sure he can have fun with my boy. Come on in. And please, call me Theo.” 

Derek steps inside. A woman walks out from the kitchen holding a girl. She’s swaddled tightly like a newborn, pacifier in her mouth. Stiles thinks she must be brand-new, even newer than him, but her skin is kind of a funny color, as if she’s been unable to move and out of the sun for a long time, and she’s not being even a little bit fussy. “Hello, Alpha Hale,” the woman holding her says cheerfully. “I’m Lila, Theo’s mate. Glad to have you here. This is our little Heather.” She raises her voice. “Donovan! Come downstairs!” 

Stiles hears running footsteps and seconds later a guy, a year or two older than Stiles, appears. He’s dressed in just a too-small t-shirt and a diaper, but he doesn’t seem embarrassed at all. Lila smiles at him and smooths back his hair. “Donovan, this is Stiles, Alpha Hale’s little boy. He came over to play with you.” 

Donovan looks Stiles up and down and Stiles wants to hide his face in Derek’s shoulder. “Can’t he walk?” the boy asks rudely. 

“He’s too little,” Derek responds calmly. 

Donovan scowls. “I don’t want to play with a dumb baby.” 

“Donovan!” Theo scolds. He looks at Derek and rolls his eyes. “Sorry.” 

“I hate dumb babies!” Donovan kicks a chair. The noise disrupts the girl in Lila’s arms, who starts to cry around her pacifier. Lila coos to her, rocking her like an infant. “I’m going to take her into the living room,” she says apologetically, walking past them. 

Theo grabs Donovan, who looks ready to keep throwing a tantrum. “Donovan,” he says quietly. “Apologize to Alpha Hale right now.” 

“No!” 

“Do it, or I’m going to take you upstairs and make you sorry.” 

Donovan’s scowl deepens and he looks at Derek. “Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously. 

“Now, how about you show Stiles your trains?” Theo beckons them into the living rooms. Donovan runs right for a chest of toys in the corner and Derek carries Stiles over to him, using some pillows to prop him up in a sitting position. Stiles tries to grab Derek’s hand when he starts to leave, but Derek just gently frees himself, kisses Stiles’ head, and walks over to the couch. 

“Sorry about Heather,” Lila says as the girl’s cries settle down. “She always fusses at loud noises. Here, would you like to hold her?” 

“I would. Oh, hi, sweetheart.” Stiles looks over his shoulder to see Derek rocking the girl, beaming down at her. “They’re so adorable like this. She reminds me of Stiles when I first found him.” 

Lila chuckles. “It’s hard to believe it’s been almost four years since we found Heather. She was just so perfect we decided this is the age we wanted her to stay at forever. Donovan’s meant to be a little terror, but Heather is wonderful just like this.” 

Stiles’ stomach turns flips as Donovan pulls trains out of the toy chest. Heather has been like this for _four years?_

Even Derek sounds surprised. “I think you’re the first couple I’ve met to keep one this young permanently.” 

“Yes, people are afraid it’s not healthy, but it’s so much easier than people think.” She drops her voice. “It’s not too late if you’d like Stiles to be like this. Just keep him swaddled and on the sedatives, make sure he’s always gagged— they stop fighting within six months. After that, it’s all in the formula. We just took Heather in for her scans a few weeks ago. She has even less brain activity than a newborn. The doctors assured us that by this point it’s essentially irreversible.” She sounds incredibly proud. 

“If Donovan becomes too much of a handful we’re thinking of doing the same to him,” Theo says casually. “We’re hoping it catches on in our community. Might as well go the full experience, right? Let me know if you want any tips on regressing Stiles.” 

Derek makes a noncommittal sound. “I don’t think Stiles would be very happy like that.” 

“Oh, they don’t even know not to be happy. Isn’t that right, Heather-girl?” Lila laughs again. “See, she can’t even understand us. Sweet thing.” 

“Here,” Donovan says, shoving a train into Stiles’ hand. “He’s the slowest train. Play.” He takes a train and starts running it along the carpet. Stiles hesitantly flops over onto his stomach and starts to “play” with his train too. Donovan immediately slams them into each other, making the sound of an explosion. “I crashed you! You’re dead!” 

“Of course, we do have some ways we keep her stimulated,” Lila says. Seconds later Stiles hears a faint, muffled buzzing. Heather whimpers. 

“Now, now, why should little Heather get to have all the fun?” Theo scolds. The buzzing intensifies and Donovan jumps, hands clasping over his diaper. “Papa!” 

Theo is smirking. “What? Do you have bees in your bottom, little boy? Maybe your new friend can help you with them.” 

Donovan whines, rubbing at the front of his diaper. 

“Oh.” Now Derek sounds disapproving. “I’d rather not expose Stiles to that.” 

“They need it to keep them happy,” Theo says, but the buzzing stops. “Donovan, that’s enough. You know little boys don’t get to touch themselves, even through the diaper. Papa will give you your special touches at nighttime.” 

“But Papa, I want…” 

“I said no. Go back to playing with Stiles or Papa will get the cage for your willie.” 

Donovan scowls but gives the train back to Stiles. “Here. It’s carrying dynamite and if I crash you it’ll explode and kill everyone.” 

Stiles hates this. He finds himself wishing he had his own toys, the piano and small puzzles and blocks. Even when he was a kid he never liked violent games. At least he has Sheriff tucked next to him. He reluctantly runs the train along the carpet, trying to keep it out of Donovan’s reach. 

They do that for a while. Donovan keeps “crashing” him until he gets bored, then they play with army men. Stiles dutifully repeats “bang bang” and lets his soldiers fall over, figuring it’s best to keep Donovan happy. The conversation at the couch has thankfully moved on to other topics, Theo’s takeover of the pack and other packs in the community which might be unstable. It’s probably a half-hour or so before Heather starts whimpering again. “Someone needs a diaper change,” Lila says. “Then I think a quick session in the soother machine before naptime.” 

Derek sounds interested. “Oh, you have a full-body soother? I was looking at them but I wasn’t sure if it was a waste of money or not.” 

“The kids love it. Would you like to come take a look? We keep it in Heather’s nursey.” 

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” 

_No!_ Stiles screams internally. He twists around to look pleadingly at Derek, considering just begging him not to leave. Derek smiles at him and bends down to kiss his head on his way out of the room. “Daddy will be back in a flash,” he promises softly. 

Stiles feels suddenly naked when Derek is gone. He can feel Theo watching him and Donovan and he shakily reaches for an army man again. 

But Donovan is bored with this game. “We need a monster for the army guys to kill,” he complains. He rifles through the toy box, finds nothing satisfactory, and starts to pout before he notices Sheriff next to Stiles. “Hey! He can be a Godzilla and squish the army guys!” He reaches for the dog eagerly. 

Without even thinking about it Stiles snatches Sheriff up and clutches him protectively. Donovan’s face goes stormy. “Give it!” 

“No!” 

“I shared my toys! I want it!” Donovan’s voice pitches up into a shriek. “Give it now!” He grabs Sheriff by the ear and Stiles is so afraid he’s going to rip it off that he automatically kicks Donovan away. The older boy falls onto his diapered ass and stares up at Stiles in shock for a minute before his face crumples. “Papa!” he wails. 

Seconds later Stiles is being picked up by Theo and carried over to the couch. “Let me go!” he shouts, trying to kick him too. 

“That’s enough of that,” Theo says calmly. 

“No! Let _go!_ ” One of Stiles’ kicks connects and Theo grabs his leg, twisting until it hurts. 

“Oh, dear. What a little brat you are. It seems your Daddy has never disciplined you properly.” Theo plunks him down hard. “In this house, little boys who try to hurt their betters have to be taught a lesson. You need a good, hard spanking.” 

“Get away!” Stiles tries to kick him again, struggling him with all his might, but Theo just clucks and holds him down. 

“Enough. You can’t hurt me, because I’m bigger and stronger. But I can hurt you. And now—” he tugs off Stiles’ elastic waistband jeans and cups his ass. “I will.” 

“Get your hands off of him.” 

The voice is soft, but so forceful that Stiles stops struggling and goes completely still. _Derek_. He turns his head and sees Derek standing at the entrance of the room. He hasn’t shifted, and his face is practically expressionless, but there’s something about him that is downright terrifying. 

Theo immediately releases Stiles. Derek is across the room in seconds and picks him up, one hand cradling his head protectively. Stiles clings to him. “How dare you,” Derek says to Theo. His voice is still soft. “If I weren’t a guest on your territory I would rip your throat out.” 

“He needs to be disciplined and learn to respect werewolves.” 

“You won’t tell me how to care for him, just as I won’t tell you how to care for yours. He is mine. _Nobody_ puts a hand on him without my consent.” Derek’s voice lowers to a growl and Stiles shivers, burrowing into his shoulder. What if Theo attacks them? 

“You brought him here, _Derek_. I am the Alpha of this house—” 

“That may be, but I am an Alpha who has been guaranteed protection. That includes protection of my boy. If you had struck him, I would have killed you. You should be thanking your lucky stars that I stopped you before it went that far.” 

Theo is quiet for a minute and Stiles shakes with fear. “I think it’s time for you to leave now,” Theo says eventually. 

“I agree. We won’t be returning.” Derek stoops to pick up the diaper bag. As he turns to leave Stiles can see Theo glaring murderously after them, eyes glowing red. Derek stops at the door. “If I hear that you’ve mistreated any of the other little ones in our community, I’ll kill you in front of your betas and take them for my own pack.” 

Theo’s eyes flash but he controls himself and nods stiffly. Derek walks out the door and down the driveway without another word. “Daddy?” Stiles whispers. 

“Hush.” Derek straps him into the car seat so quickly it’s like magic. He puts Sheriff into his arms and hurries to the driver’s seat. The wheels squeal as he pulls out. He doesn’t look at Stiles in the rearview mirror until they’re out of the territory. “You’re safe now,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. This was my fault. I should never have taken you there without knowing what kind of man he was. We won’t ever go back.” 

“Will he come after us?’ 

“No.” Derek scowls. “But if he ever steps a foot onto my territory without permission…” he sees Stiles’ wide eyes and doesn’t finish his sentence. “It doesn’t matter. You’re safe.” 

Stiles nods. Truthfully, he _does_ feel safe. The shock has worn off and now he’s just glad to be with Derek. When Derek had appeared in the room with all his Alpha power behind him, Stiles had immediately known that Derek wouldn’t hurt him. He would take care of him. He would make sure Stiles was protected. 

And knowing that had felt good. _Really_ good. Maybe because he’d seen how Donovan and Heather were treated. He could very well have ended up like them, the prisoner of someone cruel or downright abusive. Instead he got Derek. For the first time, that makes him feel…lucky. 

He knows that’s crazy. Derek is getting in his head. But his mind feels sort of confused and the only thing that makes him feel better is remembering the way Derek had cradled him and kept him safe. It feels like the voice in his head is _shrinking._ As if his mind is that of a toddler and his adult thoughts are fading away. 

He snuggles in his car seat, hugging Sheriff tightly as Derek drives him home. 

X 

Derek is fuming. 

Every cell in his body tells him to spin the car around, go back to Raeken’s, and tear out his trachea. If Stiles wasn’t in the car he would do it in a heartbeat. 

Raeken wanted to hurt his little boy. _Teach him a lesson_ , as he’d heard Raeken say just before Derek had charged back downstairs. All because Stiles was a human and Raeken wanted his fear. 

The humans in this community aren’t to be punished for that purpose. Those who are taken to be babies are meant to be cherished and protected. It is meant to be an exercise of power _and_ mercy. 

Derek had lived much of his early life among humans. Hiding from them. Fearing what they would do to him and his family if they were discovered. Then, after hunters had killed almost everyone he loved, he hated them, but still had to hide from them 

When he was rescued from that world and brought here, humans weren’t something to hide from. They were controlled, but treated with kindness and generosity. He’d immediately known that someday he would take a human of his own, a reminder that he never had to hide or be afraid again. He’d waited until he could be sure he would never be cruel to the little one just because it was human. _His_ human wouldn’t be afraid of him for being a werewolf. It would adore him. That was all he wanted. 

Pieces of shit like Raeken just show the humans here that they _should_ be afraid. If Raeken has set back Stiles’ regression Derek will destroy him. 

The ride back home is silent. After Derek pulls into the driveway he unbuckles Stiles carefully and lifts him, listing carefully to his heartbeat to see if he’s still afraid. “Okay, baby,” he murmurs. “We’re going to go upstairs and have a talk. Do you need anything first? A bottle?” 

Stiles shakes his head. Derek thinks he’s being clingier than usual, but it might just be wishful thinking. He carries the baby upstairs and settles into the rocking chair. Stiles rests against him, expression a little vacant. Derek thinks he might be in the right headspace right now, so frightened of Theo and relieved that Derek saved him that he’s feeling just like a little boy. 

He has to be very, very careful to make sure Stiles knows it’s okay to feel this vulnerable. And he needs to ensure that Stiles is imprinting on him, turning over all his fears and surrendering to his Daddy. 

“I’m sorry he scared you,” he says gently. “I never would have taken you there if I thought he might do that. You know Daddy would never want to hurt you like that, right? Someday Daddy might have to spank you, but we’ll always talk about it first, and I’ll always try to keep you from being scared. I would never, ever hurt you because I wanted to. It’s important to me that you understand that.” 

Stiles fidgets on his lap. “Okay,” he whispers. 

“Daddy loves you so much, sweetheart.” Derek kisses his baby’s forehead. “The very first time I saw you I knew you were meant to be my little boy. I knew I was meant to take care of you forever. You’re my sweet, beautiful little Stiles. All Daddy wants to do is take care of you and make you happy.” 

Stiles keeps fidgeting. Derek can see the confusion on his face, as he struggles between his belief that what Derek is doing is _wrong_ and his feelings of safety, security, and happiness here with his Daddy. “I don’t want playdates,” he whimpers finally. “Don’t want bottles or— or diapers. Don’t want to be a baby…” 

“But you are a baby. You need Daddy to take care of you. Remember what it was like living in that yucky city all alone?” Derek hugs him tightly. “You’re special, Stiles. You’re Daddy’s special little boy. You don’t belong with other humans, struggling to stay alive and being so busy doing so that you forget to be happy. Daddy takes care of everything for you so all you need to do is play and cuddle and be Daddy’s happy little baby.” 

Stiles slips his thumb into his mouth as he tries to work that out. “But you stole me,” he whispers. His voice is tiny. 

“That’s a silly way to look at it, pumpkin. Daddy’s little boy needed to be taken somewhere he could be safe and loved. Now here you are. Daddy will make sure you’re never sad or alone again.” He rocks the baby, getting lost in his thoughts. “Daddy knows what it’s like to be all alone,” he admits quietly. “A long time ago I lost just about everyone I cared about and didn’t have anyone with me for years.” 

Stiles stares at him. “Why?” 

“Someone— a very bad lady— pretended she cared about me. Then her family burned my house down when I was away and killed everyone inside.” He swallows hard, lost in the memory of it, then looks down at Stiles’ horrified face and feels like an idiot. His little boy didn’t need to hear that. “Oh, sweetheart! It’s okay. She’s gone now. Daddy would never let any bad lady hurt his Stiles.” He reassures both of them by covering the baby’s face in kisses. “Now, you don’t _really_ want Daddy to send you back to live in that yucky city all alone, do you?” 

Stiles chews his lip. Derek can practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Come with me?” he suggests, still in the same tiny voice. 

“No, little prince. This is the only place we’re safe. I know what happened today must have scared my baby boy, but it won’t happen again. We won’t worry about playdates with other packs for a while. We’ll have your friends in my pack spend some more time with you. You like your aunts and uncles, don’t you?” 

Stiles smiles a little, probably thinking of Erica and her lollipops. 

“We’ll spend lots of time with them. I want my baby boy to know how loved he is here.” Derek kisses him again, enjoying the way the little boy snuggles into his embrace. “Now, how about Stiles and Daddy have a playdate? I want to hear my little boy make some nice music on his piano. Daddy will play the drums and we’ll have a little concert. Then afterwards we’ll eat some ice cream and make a blanket fort for naptime. Sound good?” 

Bribery might be shameless, but he’s going to use it to his advantage today. 

Stiles nods. He still looks a little tortured, as if his mind hasn’t quite settled yet. That’s all right. They have time. But once Stiles knows that his place is right here with Derek and the pack, he’ll never look back. 

Derek carries Stiles out of the nursery. He spares a thought to the poor babies under Raeken’s care. Someday, if Raeken ever crosses him, he’ll destroy the Alpha and make sure the babies go to someone who will treat them as they deserve. 

After all, as he looks down at the baby in his arms, he can’t imagine how anyone could do anything but cherish the sweet things. All he wants is for Stiles to be happy. And soon his baby will know that he could never be happy without his Daddy here to protect him.


	9. Chapter 9

Time passes. Stiles wakes up in his crib. He drinks his bottles and lets Derek feed him. He plays in his playpen. He uses his diapers and doesn’t fight when Derek changes him. He snuggles on Derek’s lap for bedtime stories and smiles when Derek kisses him goodnight. 

Derek gets the pictures he’d had professionally taken. The shot of them together, with Stiles looking up at Derek and Derek smiling down at him, goes up in the living room. When Stiles looks at it, he doesn’t feel ashamed or angry. He just thinks about how safe it feels when he’s in Derek’s arms like that. 

At some point the cover to the crib comes off, and Derek feels comfortable leaving him alone downstairs for a few minutes at a time. One day Stiles is on his playmat watching Dora and sees a cell phone on the coffee table. 

His heart skips a beat. Derek must have left it there. Stiles can use it to call 9-11. An emergency number would surely call outside the community and bring real help to his door. 

He crawls over— he still hasn’t been able to get to his feet— and reaches for the phone. His hand is shaking as he grabs it. He pulls it close to him and reaches out to press the center button, only to realize that it’s a toy. Some sort of baby play phone with buttons he can push to make sounds. Derek had left it there as a gift for him, just like he’s always doing with new toys. 

And Stiles is… _relieved_. 

The feeling is sudden but undeniable. He’s glad he doesn’t have to call 9-11. He doesn’t want his time with Derek to be done. It’s not how he should be feeling, he knows, but he can’t change it. 

The realization makes him curl up in a ball, the toy phone forgotten. He starts to sniffle and Derek is by his side in an instant. “What is it, pup? Did you hurt yourself?” 

Stiles shakes his head and holds up his arms so Derek will pick him up. Derek does, cradling him the nice way that makes him feel small and safe. “It’s okay, baby,” he says gently, kissing his forehead. “I know sometimes my little prince has yucky thoughts that make him feel sad. Daddy will make it all better.” Derek sits down on the couch with him, cuddling him tightly, and turns on a Disney movie. The room fills with loud happy sounds and Stiles lets himself relax into Derek. He doesn’t want to have bad thoughts. He just wants to feel good. 

There are other moments like that. He’ll start thinking about being away from Derek, back in the city on his own. Memories of his shitty job creep in, or he’ll remember his tiny, bug-ridden apartment, and he thinks about having to pay bills and fight with his landlord and ride the subway and and and… 

It makes his chest feel tight. He doesn’t want to do any of that. When those thoughts come he just wants to play with his toys and have naptime. He _knows_ that’s wrong and he has to go back someday, but now he isn’t sure he really wants to and it’s _confusing_. 

There are things he really does miss, of course. Curly fries. Action movies. _Porn_. But every day it feels like there’s something here he would miss too. Like his toys, and the freedom to sleep whenever he wants, and Derek, and the pack. 

He’s been spending more time with them. They come over sometimes and play with him in the living room while Derek works upstairs. At first it’s kind of embarrassing, but they’re all so nice, and they seem like they’re genuinely having fun. Erica reads to him. Kira teaches him how to do little magic tricks. Scott is his favorite, they make towers together and set up action figures and get really involved in the worlds they create. He forgets that they’re all aiding and abetting in his captivity. They feel like real friends. 

Derek starts going out to run errands and calling the pack over to babysit. It’s scary at first. He sits there in the living room with Erica and Boyd, terrified of going potty in his diaper and needing to be changed. Eventually Erica entices him into a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos and he starts playing, slowly feeling himself starting to relax. Erica gives him another lollipop and puts Juciy Juice in a sippy cup for him, even though Derek almost never lets him have sugary drinks. 

Boyd sits down to play with them and Stiles realizes that he’s having fun. He wins the game and Erica cheers for him, lifting him into her lap. “You’re so good at this!” 

One part of his brain whispers that she’s humiliating him, this isn’t right, but he doesn’t feel like listening to that part of his brain today. “Again,” he demands, and Boyd sets it up for another round. 

Stiles has just won again when he hears the front door open. “Where’s my little boy?” Derek calls, and moments later he’s being lifted into Derek’s warm arms. He nuzzles in, realizing that he missed Derek even just in the short time he’s been gone. “Are you having fun, pumpkin?” 

He nods and points down at the board. “Play, Daddy?” 

“Why don’t you show me how?” Derek sits down with Stiles in his lap and helps Stiles win another round. 

After that he gets used to being babysat. Kira and Scott are his favorite, then Boyd and Erica. Uncle Peter never comes over. He doesn’t care. Uncle Peter is creepy. 

One day they all have a picnic together in the park. Stiles has to be strapped into his stroller, which he hates, but everyone is laughing and reaching over to tickle his toes and it’s a cool but sunny day. It feels sort of perfect. 

He’s never liked hanging out with people. It was always hard for him to find the right thing to say and he just felt awkward. With the pack he doesn’t have to worry about what to say. He just has to sit there and they adore him. 

It’s not very long after that day when he takes a nap in the living room with Derek. Sometimes he wants to cuddle on the couch instead of going in his crib and Derek always obliges, letting him rest his head on Derek’s chest. When he wakes up Derek’s stroking his hair, eyes half-closed. “It’s going to be Christmas soon,” he murmurs. 

Stiles’ stomach does a flip. He’s not really sure why. It’s not like Christmas is a big deal. He’s had a few decent Christmases, but they’ve mostly been disappointing. 

“Daddy will get a big tree for the living room and we’ll decorate it together. Are there any special presents my little boy wants?” 

Stiles thinks about it. “No more diapers?” he asks hesitantly. 

Derek smiles, eyes still shut. “No, sweetheart. You’re too little to wear pull-ups. Christmas is for new toys and games and treats. Daddy can buy you special nightlights that make your ceiling look like the night sky, or a new walker, or a thicker mattress for your crib…” 

Thinking about it seems overwhelming. Stiles shrugs and leans back against Derek’s chest. 

“Okay. Daddy will just buy you lots of surprises then.” Derek sits up with him, checking his diaper to make sure it isn’t wet. He doesn’t say anything else about Christmas, but two days later a real, huge Christmas tree appears in the living room. Derek puts on a Christmas movie and gets out boxes of ornaments. He carries Stiles back and forth from the couch to the tree so Stiles can decorate, even lifting Stiles so he can put the star at the very top. 

When it’s finished and Stiles is staring at the tree he gets a lump in his throat. Next year, where will he be? Will he spending Christmas or alone, or will he still be trapped here with Derek? 

It’s like Derek can read his mind. He starts to rock Stiles, patting his back. “This is already the best Christmas Daddy has had in a long time,” he whispers. 

Stiles feels too little to use his words so he just points to himself. 

“Yes, because of you. Daddy is so glad to be spending Christmas with his beautiful boy.” Derek smiles and kisses his cheek. “You’re the best Christmas present Daddy ever gotten for himself.” 

Those words make Stiles feel funny. “Not a present,” he mumbles. He isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. “I’m _real_.” 

Derek is quiet for a second. “I know, sweetheart,” he says. His voice sounds kind of sad. “I just mean that I’m very happy I found you and I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you. Because I love my little baby very, very much.” He kisses Stiles’ cheek again. “Does Stiles want to hear all the reasons Daddy loves him?” 

Stiles shakes his head. That’s something Derek has been doing a lot recently. He’ll tell Stiles how much Derek loves his smile, and his giggle, and the funny look of concentration he gets when he’s playing with his puzzles, and his big heart. Sometimes, when Stiles feels little and content, that makes him happy. Sometimes, though, it just makes him sad, because it’s like Derek has seeped into every corner of his life and knows him better than anyone ever has. 

It’s like when Stiles got here there was a huge, thick wall between him and Derek, miles wide, and now it’s thinned to just a tiny sheet of glass. Some days Stiles just wants to smash that glass for good, but if he does Derek will have him and he’ll never get free. 

Derek notices his tortured face. “What is it?” 

Stiles shakes his head. 

“Are you having bad thoughts again, pumpkin? What can Daddy do to make them go away? Should we watch another Christmas movie?” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispers. Derek smiles and starts to carry him over to the DVD rack when there’s a banging on the door. It flies open before Derek has even turned and Erica charges into the room, Kira right behind her. “Derek! Santa is at the mall. Can we please take Stiles? Please please please?” 

“What?” 

“Santa! He’s at the mall so the babies can sit on his lap. Oh my God, it’s so cute. He’ll be there for another hour, we can make it if we go right now.” 

“You want to see Santa, don’t you buddy?” Kira coos, reaching out to jiggle Stiles’ foot. 

No. He can’t do that today. He can’t be there with all the other captives and be forced to sit on a stranger’s lap and act like a toddler. It’s too humiliating. It’s just too much. His face immediately screws up, big tears filling his eyes. He shakes his head and buries his face in Derek’s shoulder. 

“Stiles? Sweetheart, what is it?” Derek tries to get him to look up. 

“Don’t make me,” Stiles sobs. 

“You don’t want to see Santa? That’s okay, pup. We won’t go. Sh, sh, don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” 

But he can’t stop. Erica and Kira are watching him break down. They think he’s stupid. They think he’s a baby. And of course they do, he’s been smiling and playing and sucking on a pacifier in front of them for weeks now. Maybe even months. “Make them go away,” he sobs to Derek. 

“Go,” Derek orders them tersely. 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry, buddy, we didn’t mean to upset you.” One of them pats his back awkwardly and seconds later the door opens and closes. 

“There we go,” Derek says gently. “It’s just Stiles and Daddy now. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

“I…I don’t feel good.” 

“Here?” Derek taps his stomach. “Or here?” He taps his forehead. 

“E-everywhere.” 

Derek presses the back of his hand to Stiles’ cheek, checking for a fever. “Hm. Well, I don’t think you’re sick, but let’s get out the thermometer and check.” 

“No!” 

“If you don’t feel good I have to know what’s wrong.” 

Stiles whimpers. He can’t deal with the thermometer right now. “Wanna cuddle with you, Daddy,” he whines, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s shoulder imploringly. 

“All right, little one.” Derek sits on the couch and snuggles with him. He rubs a circle on Stiles’ belly and despite everything it’s just as soothing as it always is. 

“Don’t make me see Santa,” Stiles whispers after a few minutes. 

Much to his surprise Derek snorts out a laugh. “Daddy’s no big fan of Santa either, to be honest. We don’t have to go see Santa, pup. We’ll stay right here in our cozy little den together.” 

Stiles nods and tries to calm down. He doesn’t feel panicked anymore just…sad. Sort of confused and numb at the same time. He can’t find any thoughts that make him feel better. Imagining himself somewhere else doesn’t work, because he doesn’t _want_ to be somewhere else. But he doesn’t want to be here either. He _can’t_ want to be here. 

He doesn’t like feeling this way and it occurs to him that it isn’t his _fault_ he feels this way. It’s those bottles. The formula messing with his hormones. He has to stop drinking it. 

Eventually Derek takes him into the kitchen for dinner. After a dish of sweet potato Derek prepares a bottle, but Stiles presses his lips together and turns his head. 

Derek frowns. “What’s wrong, pumpkin? You love your yummy milk.” 

Stiles shakes his head and strains away. Derek isn’t going to win this one. 

“Do you feel sick again? Is it your tummy?” Derek takes the bottle away and cuddles him. “Tell Daddy what hurts.” 

“Don’t want it,” Stiles whines. 

“What, sweetheart? Your milk?” 

He could tell the truth and have it force-fed to him, or he can play along and maybe have a chance. “It’s yucky. I don’t like it.” 

“Oh, no. Okay, Daddy will take care of it. We’ll add some more real milk so it tastes good for my baby.” Derek remixes the formula while Stiles chews his lip, looking for another way to get out of drinking it. “There we go!” 

Stiles tries to push it away and Derek looks concerned. “Stiles, what is it? Why don’t you want your milk?” 

Fuck it. Maybe it’s time he uses this whole baby thing to his advantage. He’s never given Derek a proper temper tantrum, but now seems like the right time. He hits Derek’s hands when he tries to give him the bottle again. “No! Don’t want it!” 

“Why?” 

“It makes me a baby! I hate it!” Stiles kicks at Derek, then lets out a loud scream as Derek quickly wraps him up and carries him out of the kitchen. “Let go!” 

“Sh, sh. Everything’s all right.” 

“No! I want to go home! Let me go!” 

“You are home,” Derek says calmly as he takes Stiles upstairs. “My poor little boy is just very tired and is letting himself get all upset. But you’re here with Daddy and everything is all right.” 

Stiles screams and fights all while Derek straps him down on the changing table, puts him in a nighttime diaper, and dresses him in pyjamas. He can’t believe Derek is just wiping down his ass and puffing on power like nothing is amiss at all. Is there _anything_ Stiles can do to shake him? 

“Now, is my little boy going to settle down for his bedtime story?” 

“No!” Stiles tries to smack him and Derek’s face goes stormy. 

“What did Daddy say about hitting? If you do that again I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want to sleep in your crib without Sheriff tonight, do you?” 

“I hate you!” 

“Hm, I don’t think that’s true. I think my little boy loves Daddy.” 

“I _don’t!_ I _hate you!_ ” 

In the moment he really does and Derek’s face changes a little, as if he knows it’s true. “Well, Daddy loves you.” He grabs a blanket and swaddles Stiles, having to hold him down with one hand while he does so. “I don’t know what has my little boy so upset, but we’re going to talk about it now. Tell me why you don’t want to drink your milk.” 

“I know what’s in it! I saw the box! It makes me weak, it makes me sad, I don’t _like it!_ ” Stiles can’t stand being swaddled like this, unable to move his hands. He’s trapped. He’s trapped in this blanket, and in this house, and in this headspace where he just feels so _tiny_ … 

Derek hushes him and sits down in the rocking chair. “Daddy used to give you formula to help you act your age, that’s true. But Daddy hasn’t given that to you in a long time. Now your formula is just to keep you healthy.” 

Stiles shakes his head. That can’t be true. He wouldn’t feel this way if it was. “You’re lying to me.” 

“I’ll show you.” Derek carries him downstairs and back to the kitchen, where he gets out a box. “See? What does this say, Stiles?” 

It’s not the same as the box Derek had grabbed when they’d been in the store together. This is _Sapienmil: To ensure a balanced diet in your settled baby_. The girl on the front of the box is beaming happily with a bottle in her hands. 

“You haven’t had the old formula for weeks, pumpkin,” Derek says softly. 

Stiles stares at the box. It can’t be. Derek is lying to him. “Then why do I feel this way?” he whines again, hating the way his voice sounds but unable to change it. 

“Because you’re accepting that you’re Daddy’s baby boy. It’s a good thing, sweetheart. Soon you’ll just feel happy and all those lingering bad thoughts will be gone. Won’t that be nice?” Derek kisses his forehead. “You don’t have to feel upset about it. Just let it happen.” 

“I don’t want to!” He’s crying again. He hates how often he cries these days. 

“I know it’s scary. My poor baby. But all it means is that you’re not fighting anymore. You’ll still be you. It’s no fun having all those bad, confused thoughts in your head, is it? So why not just say bye-bye to them and be happy with Daddy?” 

Stiles doesn’t know the answer. He sniffles pathetically and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna be sad,” he mumbles. 

“So don’t be sad, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t want you to be sad. All Daddy wants is to take care of you and make you happy.” Derek pats his back, rocking him gently. “Daddy doesn’t do things to make you sad, does he? Daddy only ever gives you toys and cuddles and kisses, because he wants his little prince to have that big happy smile Daddy loves so much.” 

It’s true. Derek doesn’t hurt him. He’s not even feeding him the bad formula anymore. So why does Stiles’ brain whisper that Stiles has to get away from him? 

“Now, let’s go back upstairs and have a bedtime story.” Derek rinses off a pacifier and pops it into Stiles’ mouth. He doesn’t complain, it’s soothing to suck on it. 

Upstairs Derek gets him out of the blanket and grabs a book from the shelf. Sometimes he reads traditional children’s books, _Goodnight Moon_ or Dr. Seuss, but there are also books that must be specially made by werewolves. They’re all about the adventures of nice Mommy and Daddy wolves and their little pups. Derek grabs one of those, a story about a Daddy wolf who has a little adopted bunny rabbit. “Once upon a time there was a Daddy wolf who lived with his baby bunny Ollie in the woods…” 

In the story Ollie is kidnapped by some other bunnies who try to tell him he shouldn’t be living with his daddy. The daddy comes to rescue him and reminds Ollie that of course he should be with Daddy even though they’re not the same, because Daddy keeps him warm and fed and loves him very much. 

“And Ollie went to sleep, snuggled up against Daddy in their cozy forest den.” Derek points to the illustration on the last page. “Look, sweetheart. He’s watching over Ollie and keeping him safe, just like Daddy does for you.” 

Stiles yawns. He always starts to fall asleep when Derek reads to him, lulled by Derek’s deep voice and the rise and fall of his chest. 

“I bet if Ollie did stay with the other bunnies forever he would miss his daddy very much. And no matter where his daddy was, I bet he’d still be thinking about Ollie and trying to get him back. Because that’s what daddies do, they make sure their little boys are right where they belong. If Daddy ever lost you, he would travel the whole world to get you back.” Derek carries him over to the crib and lays him down gently. “Daddy’s going to stay right here in the rocking chair to make sure my little boy goes beddy-bye.” 

Derek’s going to watch over him. That’s nice, isn’t it? It means he loves Stiles and wants to make sure he’s safe. Stiles’ thoughts are still confused, but he doesn’t feel sad anymore. He reaches up for Derek sleepily. “Kiss,” he mumbles. 

Derek laughs softly. “Of course, how could Daddy have forgotten to give his baby a goodnight kiss? Silly Daddy.” He gives Stiles the kiss on his forehead and Stiles sighs, shutting his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, he can’t even remember why he’d been so fussy only a half-hour before. 

X 

Derek hates to see his poor baby so upset. Stiles’ mood ping-pongs by the day, from happy and giggling to distraught and sniffling. Usually when he’s upset it’s easy to calm him down with cuddles and extra stories and lots of kisses, and Derek knows this is normal, but it’s still hard to see. 

He wants to make sure his little boy has a perfect Christmas, filled with fun and gifts and love. The entire pack agrees to come, except Peter, who ducks Derek’s calls for almost a week before Derek calls Scott and Kira to babysit and just goes over to his house himself. 

“What the hell?” he snaps when Peter opens his door. “I’ve been calling.” 

“And I’ve been busy.” 

“With what?” 

“Various important…things.” Peter inspects his fingernails. “Which I’m actually still doing, so if you don’t mind…” 

“Just let me know if you’ll be at my house Christmas morning.” 

Peter grimaces. “I’m afraid I must have double-booked myself. Apologies. I’ll see if I can stop by in the afternoon for some ham.” 

Derek blocks him from closing the door. “Peter, what the hell? You really won’t come to Christmas with your family?” 

Peter’s eyes flash at him. “Don’t ever use that word when referring to your little human again.” 

“Peter—” 

“No, Derek. It’s your life, but I’m not taking part in this. You know how I feel about them after what they did to our _real_ family.” 

“He’s not like them. Peter, please. Everyone else in the pack adores him. If you just gave him a chance…” 

Peter slams the door in his face. Derek stands there for a moment, fuming, before returning to his own house. Stiles is on the floor with Scott playing with his Playmobil castle. “Okay,” Scott is saying. “I think we have to put most of our guys up top as archers, right? The enemy’s guys are way beefier so they would kill us in hand-to-hand.” 

“You could pour boiling oil on them,” Derek suggests as he sinks on the floor and pulls Stiles onto his lap. 

“Gross,” Stiles snickers, nuzzling against the underside of Derek’s jaw in hello. He’s still in a sunny mood, that’s good to see. 

“Naw, we’ll just use flaming arrows,” Scott says. “Aim for the soft spots.” 

“You’ll have to do battle tomorrow. This little boy needs a bath.” 

“No, Daddy, we’re playing!” 

“Tomorrow,” Derek says firmly. Stiles pouts but doesn’t fuss when Derek lifts him. Derek tickles him as they walk upstairs and Stiles squeals, giggling into Derek’s neck. His heart just melts. How could Peter possibly want to turn his back on this sweet baby? 

When Christmas Eve comes Stiles is giddy with excitement, with only one little sniffly moment in the morning. Derek lets him shake the presents under the tree and guess what’s inside. When night comes Derek dresses him in special Christmas jammies and reads _The Night Before Christmas_ to him. “Okay, baby boy. Go to sleep and when you wake up it’ll be Christmas. Are we going to have a fun day tomorrow?” 

Stiles nods. “Night, Daddy,” he yawns before snuggling into his crib with Sheriff and his kitten. Derek waits until he’s asleep, then goes downstairs to stack some extra presents under the tree and fill Stiles’ stocking. 

For the first time Stiles wakes _him_ up, by yelling “Daddy! It’s Christmas!” into the baby monitor somewhere around six a.m. Derek yawns and walks down to the nursery to see him trying to pull himself up using the bars of the crib. 

“Stiles!” Derek rushes forward to get him. “Little boys don’t get out on their cribs on their own, you know that.” 

“But Daddy, it’s Christmas!” 

“I know it is, but we have to wait for everyone else to get here before we can open presents.” Derek changes him and dresses him in an adorable little Christmas onesie. “But maybe my little boy can open _one_ present now.” 

Stiles claps his hands in excitement and Derek carries him downstairs. Derek helps him open one of the presents, a brand-new Playmobil castle for him and Scott to play with, and sets it up for him while they wait for everyone else. 

Fortunately they don’t have to wait for long and eventually the house is full of people toting bags of presents and plates of food. Usually Christmas is a free-for-all with everyone tearing gifts apart, but this year everyone is having so much fun watching Stiles they put their own gifts aside. Stiles is so surrounded by presents he can barely see out from over them. Everyone takes turns helping him open them, toys and coloring books and videos and stories and blankets and clothes. Isaac gives him a onesie that looks like a wolf pup, covered in fake fur and complete with a little hood with ears. Derek loves it. 

“I think we should go put this on right now!” He carries Stiles upstairs and puts him in the onesie, grinning in delight once it’s on. “Oh, my goodness! Are you Daddy’s little puppy?” 

Stiles beams at him and makes a little growling sound. Derek laughs and blows a raspberry on his furry tummy. “That’s my happy boy!” 

“Gotta be happy for Christmas,” Stiles tells him seriously. 

“That’s right, we do. C’mon, pup, let’s go show all your friends.” Derek carries Stiles downstairs and makes him do his little growl for everyone. They clap for him and he giggles bashfully, cuddling against Derek. 

After all the presents are open they have dinner. Derek feeds Stiles mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce, even deciding to treat him to a little pumpkin pie filling. Every so often a shadow crosses Stiles’ face, as though the back of his mind is urging him to remember that he should be trying to get away, but then his face clears and he smiles. He knows it would just be silly to be upset on Christmas. 

When everyone goes home Derek helps Stiles open his stocking and then they cuddle up by the fireplace, looking at Stiles’ favorite presents. Stiles missed his nap so he starts yawning by seven o’clock. Derek gives him a nice warm bath and carries him to bed. “Can you believe you’ve been here with Daddy for almost six months?” he says softly. 

Stiles blinks up at him, looking confused, and holds up six fingers. 

_Adorable._

“That’s right, one, two, three, four, five, six!” Derek counts each finger and beams down at him. “And that means that soon you’ll have to go in for your six-month checkup. We’ll just go see the nice doctor and make sure you’re all healthy, okay, sweetheart?” 

Stiles is so sleepy he just nods and yawns against Derek’s shoulder. Derek has a feeling that when he’s a little more awake he won’t be nearly so cheerful about the prospect of his checkup, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.” 

Stiles yawns again. “Love you too, Daddy,” he mumbles with his eyes shut. Derek stares down at him in surprise, waiting to see if he’ll realize what he said and take it back, but he only starts to snore softly in Derek’s arms. 

Derek kisses his forehead and lays him down in the crib before tiptoeing out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Threat of surgical castration in this chapter. It doesn't actually happen and won't happen, but it comes up a few times so skip the whole doctor's office section if it's a hard no for you.

Stiles wakes up the day after Christmas so early that he’s disoriented for a second. All the lights are off and he’s alone. After a few confused moments he remembers the day before and how early he’d gone to bed. No wonder he’s awake now. 

It had been a good day. A fun day. As he lies there, staring up at his mobile, it occurs to him that once he’s out of here he’s going to need serious therapy to turn the memory of Christmas into a bad one. It’s a painful thought and he sticks his thumb into his mouth to try and make himself feel better. 

He’d ordered himself to not feel sad yesterday, to just sink into headspace and enjoy it. He wants to stay there in that happy place. He has lots of new toys he can play with today, and new stories for Derek to read to him, and a new Spiderman onesie Derek promised he could wear. It’s okay to be happy, right? Derek says it is but sometimes Stiles is afraid to believe him. 

He starts to whimper a little because the thoughts hurt. He hears footsteps and the nursery fills with the soft green light of his soother. “Stiles?” Derek lifts him out of the crib and cuddles him. “What’s wrong, pup? Did you have a bad dream?” 

Stiles nods. He’s been held like this so many times that he’s memorized Derek’s scent and stubbly cheek. It all feels familiar and comforting. 

“Do you want to tell Daddy about it?” 

He shakes his head. He just wants to be held. 

“Hmm.” Derek rocks him for a second. “Well, I certainly hope it wasn’t about… _the tickle monster_.” Without warning he starts to tickle Stiles, taking him by surprise and making him shriek before he loses his breath in giggles. 

“Daddy!” he pleads after almost a full minute. “Stop!” 

“No, no, little boy, the only thing that can stop the tickle monster is kisses!” Derek tickles his belly and under his arms. Stiles kisses his cheek, still giggling helplessly. “Oh, you got me!” He pretends to collapse dramatically into the rocking chair, holding Stiles tight so he won’t be jostled. 

“Not nice, Daddy,” Stiles accuses as he gets his breath back. 

“Aww, I’m sorry.” Derek adjusts him so he’s snuggled in Derek’s lap. “Is the bad dream all gone now?” 

“Uh-huh.” He feels much better now. But he suddenly remembers what Derek had said to him before putting him in the crib. “Daddy?” he asks nervously. “Are we going to the doctor?” 

“We are tomorrow, pup.” 

“But…” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s a nice doctor. It’s just to make sure you’re still all healthy. And after it’s over we’ll go do something fun, all right?” 

“Okay.” Stiles doesn’t want to think about it. “Can I have a bottle, Daddy?” 

“Of course, baby.” Derek carries him downstairs and prepares a bottle for him. By now Stiles loves the taste of his bottles and the comforting feel of sucking on it. Derek lets him drink it in the living room with the lights of the Christmas tree still on. 

Stiles drifts off to sleep again right there with the bottle still in his mouth. When he wakes up the room is bright with sunlight and he’s still in Derek’s lap. “Morning, sleepyhead,” Derek says, kissing the tip of his nose. “Are you ready to play with all your new toys?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles looks at the gifts Derek has left piled in the corner of the room. There’s a helicopter he can control with a remote. “Helicopter, Daddy?” 

“Sounds good. Let’s get you changed first and then put you into your Spiderman clothes.” 

Stiles hadn’t even realized he’d used his diaper. He nuzzles against Derek happily as he’s carried upstairs. 

X 

Derek can tell that Stiles is worried about his first trip to the doctor. He thinks about putting a little something extra into Stiles’ morning bottle to keep him calm, but if the doctor has to test his blood or something it’s probably better to keep him free of drugs. 

When Derek puts Stiles into his coat the baby pouts. “Don’t give me that face,” Derek scolds lightly. “It’s not going to be bad, sweetheart. You know Daddy would never do anything that would hurt you, because Daddy loves you more than anything in the world.” 

Stiles blushes. Derek hasn’t brought up Stiles’ own little declaration of love, figuring the boy was so sleepy he probably doesn’t remember it, but Derek heard his heartrate and knew it was true. “Time to go,” he says gently. 

Stiles whimpers. 

Derek carries Stiles outside and straps him into his carseat, smiling reassuringly at him. “Just a little checkup,” he says for the thousandth time in two days. 

Stiles puts his thumb up to his lip. “Bad shots?” he asks in a tiny voice. 

“I don’t know, pumpkin. Only if the doctor says we need them.” 

Stiles pokes his lip out and Derek gently slides a pacifier in so he won’t suck his thumb. He can tell that Stiles is almost panicking as they drive, but he stays nice and quiet the entire drive. When Derek pulls into the doctor’s office and unstraps him he doesn’t fight a bit, just clings to Derek and sucks his pacifier nervously. 

“Such a good boy,” Derek praises. Stiles smiles bashfully and hides his face in Derek’s shoulder. 

The waiting room is full of werewolves and their babies. Derek sees Jordan with Jackson and goes to sit down next to them. “Hey buddy,” he says to Jack. “You’re not sick, are you?” 

Jack pouts at him. “I have to get an owie.” 

“We’ve decided it’s time to regress Jackie a little,” Jordan tells Derek, patting Jack’s back soothingly. “So the little guy needs some shots to keep him from acting like such a big boy.” 

“Owies hurt,” Jack sniffles. 

“I know, buddy, but won’t it be nice to be a little baby boy again so Mommy and Daddy can take care of you? You’ll be just the right age to have a playdate with Stiles. Unless…are you regressing Stiles today?” 

Stiles tenses in Derek’s arms and Derek squeezes him soothingly. “No, I don’t think so.” 

The nurse calls Jordan’s name and he stands with Jack. “Well, we’ll talk about a playdate later. C’mon, Jackie-Jack, let’s go.” 

Derek keeps Stiles on his lap until Melissa comes out to get them personally. “Hey there, buddy,” she says gently, crouching down to look Stiles in the face. “I’m your friend Scott’s mom. I’m a nurse here and I’m going to take you and your Daddy to meet with the doctor.” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispers. 

Melissa smiles and leads them back. She’s wearing brightly colored clothes to appeal to the babies’ senses and she speaks gently to Stiles, trying to get him to smile as they go into an examination room. “All right, honey. I’m just going to look you over, okay? I know sometimes little guys like you get nervous, so I can use straps to keep you still. Would you like them, or will you be able to stay still for me?” 

Stiles looks to Derek nervously. “No straps?” he says, making it a question. 

“Okay, honey.” Melissa gestures to Derek to lay him down on the examination table. Derek does, getting him out of his onesie quickly and blowing a raspberry on his belly before taking off his diaper too. Stiles whimpers but stays obediently still as Melissa weighs and measures him. “Everything here looks good,” she says approvingly to Derek as she clinically examines Stiles’ balls and penis. “No sign of a rash at all. Still, this is where I have do my whole spiel and tell you keeping him clean and comfy would be much easier with a penile reduction surgery. Look how big he is. We could probably take two and a half or three inches off and then do a chemical vasectomy to shrink the testicles. Much easier to keep him in the diapers.” 

Derek grimaces. He knows the health benefits but Stiles has been so good about not trying to jerk off that it feels like punishing him unnecessarily. “I’ll talk to Dr. Deaton about it.” 

Stiles’ eyes fill with tears and Derek ruffles his hair. “Only if you need it,” he says gently. 

There’s a knock on the door and Dr. Deaton comes inside. “Hi there,” he says. “Look at this little boy. How is he doing, Melissa?” 

“Perfect! At just the right size and weight for a six-month-old.” 

“Very good, very good.” Deaton takes his chart. “I’m just going to give you a little checkup to see if you need any special medicine today, buddy. First of all, Derek, his incontinence shot will be wearing off. Would you like to renew it?” 

Derek shakes his head. 

“Are you planning on potty training?” 

“No, but I think he can learn to go by himself. Can’t you, sweetheart?” 

Stiles blinks at him, looking confused. 

“If you can’t go potty on your own the doctor can give you a shot.” 

Stiles shakes his head vigorously, clearly desperate to avoid a shot. “I can do it, Daddy.” 

Derek smiles and ruffles his hair again. “You heard the little boy. No shot.” 

“Okay, then. Now, he’s not walking, is he?” 

“No. Minimal crawling.” 

“Stiles, I’m going to hit your knee with a little hammer. It won’t hurt, it’s just to check your reflexes.” 

Stiles keeps looking nervously at Derek for reassurance. He’s so perfect. Derek helps him sit up and holds him still while Deaton tests his reflexes. “Very good!” he tells Stiles when his legs move. “Now I’m just going to put something against the pad of your foot. Press down hard against it, okay?” 

He puts the little scale against Stiles’ foot and Stiles’ screws up his face with concentration as he pushes down, legs shaking with the effort. “Excellent!” Deaton says. “Derek, his muscle degradation is in wonderful shape. If you know you don’t want to teach him to walk any time soon you can either continue as you are or I can just give him a little shot to numb his lower legs entirely.” 

“We’ll continue as we are.” Derek has sort of fallen in love with the idea of teaching Stiles to walk, guiding him by his hands and cooing at him as he toddles across the room to fall into Derek’s arms. Once he gets the hang of it Derek will bring him back here for the shot to reduce his mobility again. That’s the joy of having a grown-up baby, nothing is ever permanent. 

“You’ve stopped the formula hormone treatment, right?” 

“Yes. About two months ago.” 

“I think he’s starting to grow hair back. I’m going to prescribe a medicated hair-removal crème you can put on before bed. You can pick it up at the pharmacy once we’re done here.” 

“How long will that last?” 

“Apply it once a week for about a year and after that you shouldn’t have to ever worry about it again.” Deaton goes on checking Stiles’ glands and grip and eyesight. “How have his bowel movements been?” 

“Consistent. I’m giving him nutritional supplements in the bottle so digestion-wise everything seems to be good.” 

“What a lucky little boy you are to have such a loving Daddy,” Deaton coos to Stiles. “Now, Derek, _this_ is far too big for such a little boy. And since his body hasn’t reached full maturity yet his testicles are only going to get bigger. A vasectomy and reduction would make him more comfortable and get rid of the morning erection I’m sure you’re dealing with. No time like the present to take care of it.” 

Stiles whimpers. 

“Not today, Alan. We’ll talk about it another time.” 

“Don’t wait too long, Derek. For the baby’s sake. But all right, that ends our physical examination. You can get him dressed.” 

Derek does so while Deaton bustles around grabbing the flash cards. “He can sit on your lap for this part,” Deaton says, and Derek lifts Stiles from the table so he can cuddle him in his arms. “Stiles, I’m going to hold up some flash cards. I want you to tell me what’s on them, okay?” 

Stiles nods. His heart is beating quickly and Derek rubs his belly, knowing he likes that. Deaton holds up the first flashcard with a picture of a cat on it. “Kitty,” Stiles says in a small voice. 

“Very good! How about this one?” Deaton holds up a card with a picture of a dog. 

“Puppy.” 

_Doggie_ would have been better, but Derek is still pleased with the childish words and voice. 

He stumbles over the duck picture, calling it a duck instead of “duckie,” but he gets “horsey” and “potty” and “tummy” and stares at the picture of an octagon for almost a full minute before looking helplessly up at Derek and guessing, “Shape?” 

“That’s right, baby,” Derek praises, kissing his cheek. He’d thought it was too much too hope that all those big-boy words would be cleared out of Stiles’ head by now, but of course his perfect baby could do it. 

Deaton holds up a flash card with a picture of a teenage boy in a diaper, happily playing with some blocks. “What’s this?” he prompts. 

Stiles swallows. “B-baby?” 

“Good job!” Deaton holds up the last flashcard. There’s a picture of Derek on it. “Last one. Who’s this?” 

Stiles relaxes, this one is easy. “Daddy.” 

“What a smart boy!” Deaton puts the flashcards down. “You’re all done! Derek, with his incontinence shot wearing off, be sure to monitor him to make sure he’s going enough. Have suppositories on hand. Keep doing his stretches. And I’m quite serious about a penile reduction.” 

“Gotcha.” Derek hoists Stiles into his arms. “Thanks for seeing us.” 

He’s carrying Stiles towards the checkout desk when Stiles stiffens. “Daddy,” he whispers. “I gotta go potty.” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart, there are changing tables here.” 

“B-but…people will see.” 

“That’s okay, they’re used to it.” Derek veers towards a changing table outside a bathroom and pulls on a pair of the sanitary gloves in the dispenser next to it. “Go on, Daddy will change you right away.” 

Stiles’ eyes water. He presses his face into Derek’s neck and whimpers as the diaper gets warm and heavy. “That’s it,” Derek croons, figuring it’ll be easier for the baby if he’s being treated as young as possible. “Such a good baby for Daddy, Daddy is so proud of you.” He lays Stiles down as soon as he’s finished. “Now the good little boy gets a fresh diaper, yes he does.” 

A nurse passes them and smiles down at Stiles. Derek cleans him, disposing of the wipes and diaper in the trash can next to the table. He doesn’t usually linger on Stiles’ privates, but today he wipes them off carefully while looking directly at Stiles. “The doctor was right that your pee-pee is very big for such a little boy,” he says gently. “Daddy doesn’t want his little boy to be uncomfortable, so Daddy might decide his little boy’s pee-pee needs to be smaller. Daddy’s not doing it to be mean, just to make sure his sweet boy isn’t in any discomfort.” 

“Not too big, Daddy,” Stiles pleads. 

“We’ll see, sweetheart.” Derek finishes up and puts on a new diaper before lifting Stiles up and throwing away the sanitary paper. “All done! Daddy is so proud of his brave little boy. Now we’ll go have fun.” 

Stiles is bright red but he leans into Derek as Derek checks them out and heads outside. He straps Stiles into his carseat and heads back to the main road. “Daddy?” Stiles asks nervously. “Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart. But we’ll have fun.” Derek parks and goes to get Stiles. As he turns he notices a surprising pair walking out of the restaurant across the street. Peter. And Theo Raeken. 

His eyes narrow and he walks briskly across the street, Stiles in his arms. Peter is waving to Theo as the other man heads for his car, hunting in his pocket for his keys. “Peter,” Derek says sternly. “On a lunch date, I see?” 

Peter blanches in surprise, but tries to hide it. “Are you jealous you weren’t invited, nephew? Don’t be. He was terrible company.” 

Derek frowns. Peter is his uncle, his only blood family left in the world, but Derek knows he covets the Alpha position. To see him cozying up to a beta who challenged his Alpha—and won—is more than disconcerting. “If you’re planning a coup I’d like to know in advance.” 

“I don’t think you know how coups work.” 

“I know enough to know if you try one I’ll have to destroy you, and that would be a shame.” Derek waits to see if Peter has any response. “Peter, you’re my uncle. You really want to do something stupid? Don’t make me kill you.” 

“You’re overreacting, Derek. I have no interest in challenging you for the Alpha position. You insulted Raeken in his own home and, based on the rumors I’ve been hearing, he’s still a bit sore about it. I thought I would try and smooth things over before he attacks us. You’re welcome.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you’re too prideful for your own good and I knew you would tell me we didn’t need to smooth things over with someone like him.” 

He’s right, and his heartrate is steady, but Derek isn’t convinced. “I want to hear about it next time you decide to do something like this.” 

“Yes, Alpha.” Peter catches Stiles’ eye. “What’s he doing out and about?” 

Derek decides to let it go. He’ll have to keep an eye on Peter, but he doesn’t feel like making a big deal out of it now. “He just had his first doctor’s appointment. Now we’re celebrating. You want to say hi to Uncle Peter, sweetheart?” 

“Hi,” Stiles whispers. He’s not nearly as comfortable with Peter as he is with the rest of the pack, if this was Erica or Scott he’d be wriggling to be turned over and cuddled by them. 

“A doctor’s appointment! How exciting. Have you scheduled his lobotomy yet?” 

Stiles’ eyes widen. 

“He’s joking,” Derek tells him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Peter, can you just try to be nice?” 

“I could try, but I hate to fail, so why bother?” Peter pats Stiles’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, little one, once Derek gets bored with you and turns you over to me I’ll make sure to wipe that little mind clean.” 

“Peter! He’s joking again, sweetheart, Daddy could never be bored with you.” Derek kisses Stiles’ cheek and decides there’s no point in talking to Peter any longer. “Well, this was fun, Peter. Will you be at the pack meeting Saturday?” 

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you from your _super-fun_ day.” 

Stiles gives Peter the stink-eye as Derek starts to walk away. Derek sighs as he heads across the street, reminding himself to keep a very careful eye on Peter from here on out. 

X 

Stiles can tell that Derek is a little distracted after they meet Peter, but once they cross the street he shakes it off and smiles at Stiles. “Sorry about that, pumpkin. _Now_ we can have fun.” 

Derek takes him into a little store with brightly patterned curtains. The woman behind the counter smiles at them. “Welcome! Are you my two o’clock appointment, Mr. Hale?” 

“That’s me.” 

“Come on in!” She leads them to an arts-and-crafts room with a paint-splattered table and a kiln. “Now, you want one cement imprint and one plate, right?” 

“Right.” 

“Wash your hands off in the sink over there and we’ll get started.” 

Derek carries him over to the sink and washes Stiles’ hands carefully, then his own. When they return to the table the woman has set out a white plate, several bottles of paint, and a clear heart-shaped thing filled with a gooey gray substance. “We’ll start with getting your handprints on the plate and the baby’s handprints in the cement.” 

“Okay.” Derek sits at the table, Stiles carefully balanced in his lap. “We’re going to make art with our handprints!” Derek tells him. “Daddy’s going to put his handprints on the plate. What color should Daddy use?” 

Stiles points to the red. Derek smiles and grabs the bottle, covering his hands in the paint before carefully pressing them on the plate. When he lifts them there’s a perfect imprint left behind. 

“Go wash off,” the woman says lifting Stiles from Derek’s lap so he can stand without getting paint on Stiles. Stiles doesn’t like being held by anyone other than Derek and he holds his breath until Derek comes back. 

“Your turn!” Derek takes his hands and guides them towards the heart. “This is cement. When you put your hands in it it’ll keep the shape of them as it hardens. Then we’ll take the plastic away and have a perfect little heart with your handprints in it.” He presses Stiles’ hands down into it and holds them there. It feels weird. Derek counts in his ear to five, then lifts his hands out and whisks him back to the sink to wash off. 

“You can write on it now,” the woman says when they come back, giving Derek a pointy stick to use. Derek writes _Stiles_ and the date before giving the stick to Stiles. “You can write something now, sweetheart.” 

That bad voice in Stiles’ head whispers that he should write _SOS_ or just scribble over his handprints, but a louder voice scolds that that wouldn’t be nice. He draws a little smiley face next to his name, making Derek and the woman laugh. 

“This will take about a day to dry,” the woman tells him, carefully lifting the heart and carrying it over to the windowsill. “It looks like the plate is already dry, so you can put the baby’s handprints on it now.” 

Derek sits him back down in front of the plate and covers Stiles’ hands in purple paint. Stiles giggles a little and Derek laughs at him. “I know, it feels funny, doesn’t it?” He puts Stiles’ hands on top of his own handprints, pressing them down before carefully lifting them back up. Their handprints are layered over each other and Stiles stares at them in surprise. 

“What do you think?” Derek asks. 

He tries to put his reaction into words. It’s hard to find words these days, most of them seem to be just out of his reach. “D-different.” 

“Our hands? I know, sweetheart.” Derek smiles down at the plate. His own much handprints are bigger than Stiles. “That’s because you’re so little.” 

Stiles stares. He’s never realized how much bigger Derek’s hands are than his. He’s contemplated their size and strength differences before but this is a stark illustration of it. Derek’s right. He _is_ little. 

Derek takes a marker and writes _Stiles + Daddy_ with the date over the handprints. He carries Stiles back to the sink and washes his hands off while the woman blows the plate dry and sprays it with some kind of sealant. “There you go,” she says cheerfully when they come back over. “You can come pick up the heart tomorrow. Remember to only hand-wash the plate, don’t use a dishwasher.” She puts it into a bag for them and Derek carries both it and Stiles outside. 

“There we go, all done with the doctor’s and we had a little arts and crafts fun. Now we’ll go home so you can keep playing with your new toys.” Derek is still beaming, obviously pleased with Stiles’ good behavior today. “You’re such a good little baby for Daddy, aren’t you?” 

Stiles blushes. “Uh-huh, Daddy,” he mumbles. He’s a little sleepy actually, he’s ready for naptime. As Derek unlocks the car Stiles can see Peter sitting back in that restaurant across the street, watching them as if he had never left. It creeps him out and he considers saying something to Derek, but then he sees something else that catches his eye. There’s a group of grown-up babies being led out of a building by an adult werewolf, holding hands with each other. “Daddy?” he asks in confusion. 

Derek sees where he’s looking. “It’s a daycare, sweetheart. Some Mommies and Daddies don’t work at home like I do, so they have to have somewhere to keep their babies during the day.” 

“Not me?” 

“Not right now. Daddy might send you there for a day at a time or something if nobody can babysit, but it’ll be nice. You’ll make lots of friends.” Derek straps him into the carseat. “Let’s go home.” 

Stiles takes a long naptime once they go home, then plays with his new racecar until bathtime. Daddy— _Derek_ — reads him a new story about Ollie and his wolf Daddy. It’s scary at first. Ollie runs away and his Daddy tries to get him back. He finds Ollie’s pants tangled in a bush and thinks that bad wolves might have eaten him, it makes him cry and cry, but it turns out Ollie was just being chased and his pants got caught. Ollie promises he’ll never leave Daddy again and Daddy lets him ride on his back all the way home. 

The next day something surprising happens. Uncle Peter comes over. He says that he feels bad he never brought Derek any Christmas presents. He even has a tiny present for Stiles, a little fairy on a flower that flies up in the air when Stiles pulls a string. It’s a girl toy but it’s still nice. “Thank you,” he says, offering up a small smile. 

Peter smiles back for half a second. He looks at Derek and smirks. “I hope this reassures you that I’m not _planning_ anything.” 

“I always assume you’re planning something, Peter, it’s just a smart way to live.” 

Peter chuckles. “Good man.” He pats Stiles on the head. “Goodbye, little human. See you Saturday.” 

After he leaves Derek takes Stiles upstairs to his playpen. Stiles has a new drumset that plays on its own while he plays the piano so he starts to play a song he’s making up himself. He kind of likes to be in his playpen. Derek is at his desk working and every so often he looks in on Stiles and smiles. If Stiles uses his diaper he’s there within seconds and whenever Stiles wants something he just has to ask. 

Stiles is getting pretty into his song when suddenly Derek is kneeling down next to his playpen. “Sweetheart, Daddy has to make some calls. Would you mind playing quietly for a few minutes?” 

Stiles silences the drum set guiltily. Derek smiles and points to a book of blank paper and crayons. “Why don’t you draw Daddy a nice picture, and when you finish Daddy will hang it up on the wall?” 

Derek goes back to the desk as Stiles starts to draw. He’s talking too quietly for Stiles to hear, so he just focuses on his drawing, adding in detail after detail until Derek comes back. “All finished!” he lifts Stiles out of the playpen and admires his drawing. “Did you draw me a doggie?” 

“Wolf,” Stiles says a little proudly. 

“Like Daddy! I love it.” Derek carries him over to the desk so Stiles can watch him tack it up right where he can see it. “Here, Daddy needs to talk to you for a second.” He sits at the desk and snuggles Stiles on his lap. Stiles can see the pictures of Stiles he has on his desk. “So Daddy was making calls because I found a werewolf living with humans. We need to bring him here so he can be with other werewolves. And it’s time for Daddy to start going back out and rescuing werewolves, so Daddy’s going to take a trip to bring him here.” 

“Wh-what about me?” 

“Well, you’ll stay here. It’ll only be for a day or so. Scott and Kira or Erica and Boyd or even Isaac will come over to babysit you.” 

Once upon a time Stiles had hoped for this, because he’d thought it might be his chance to escape, but now he’s just scared. “Humans hurt werewolves,” he whispers. He thinks about the bad lady who hurt Daddy’s— _Derek’s_ —family. 

Derek grins at him, hugging him tightly. “Nobody’s going to hurt Daddy, silly! Daddy will be back before you know it. And I’ll make sure to bring you a _very_ nice present.” 

“When?” 

“Next week. I wanted you to know ahead of time so you wouldn’t be scared.” Derek kisses his forehead. “I’ll miss you, but you’ll have lots of fun with your babysitter while I’m gone.” 

Stiles swallows. He’s not so sure. “Don’t be gone too long, Daddy,” he mumbles, nuzzling into Derek’s neck. 

Derek chuckles and pats his bottom. “Don’t you worry, pup. Daddy could never stay away from you for long.”


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles is dreading Derek leaving town with every fiber of his being. He doesn’t even know _why_. Once upon a time he would have done anything to be free of Derek for a day, and now the thought of being without him brings a lump to his throat. 

At the pack meeting on Saturday Derek asks who would be available to babysit. Stiles isn’t sure who he wants. Scott is his favorite but it’s too embarrassing to think of Scott having to change him or give him a bath. Erica’s okay but Stiles wants it to be one of the men, now that he’s so used to Daddy. 

_Derek_. 

That little internal slipup is happening more and more these days. 

Scott and Kira say they could only watch Stiles for a few hours because they have to go to dinner at Melissa’s for Sunday dinner and her place isn’t equipped for a baby. Erica and Boyd are busy too since it’s their mating anniversary, whatever that is. 

“I can do it,” Peter says. He’s in his usual chair, a little bit away from the others so he can stare out the window. When he’d come in he’d actually smiled at Stiles and bent down to see what he was playing with, but Stiles still stares at him in shock. 

Derek looks equally surprised. “Really?” 

“Absolutely. I’m your second, after all; whenever you’re gone I’m acting Alpha. By hierarchical right he should be with me, it’s where he’ll be safest.” 

Derek frowns, looking carefully at Stiles, who stares back pleadingly. “I’m not sure that would be the best idea, Peter.” 

“And just why not?” 

“Because he’s my little boy. He means the world to me. And I don’t trust you with him.” 

Peter grimaces. “Well, that’s a bit harsh.” 

“You’ve barely made an effort with him, and most of what you’ve done has been cruel. Why should I think you’ve had some change of heart now?” 

“Because you love him,” Peter says quietly. “I see that now. Before, I thought you were just being ridiculous. I expected you to come to your senses. But clearly you’ve chosen him, and you’re my nephew and my Alpha. I respect your choices.” 

Derek looks unconvinced. “And that somehow erases all your prejudice towards humans?” 

“I was angry you chose a human. I was. But I’ve already lost the rest of my family.” Peter’s voice is soft and the others are exchanging quick glances, as if they’ve never heard him talk this much. “I won’t lose you too. I’ll love him for your sake. You’re right, he’s far more decent that most humans. I’ve wasted a lot of time refusing to get to know him and I want to make up for that now.” 

The room is silent as Derek evaluates Peter, face inscrutable. After a few moments he looks at Stiles. “Sweetheart?” he says gently. “How would you feel about Uncle Peter babysitting?” 

Stiles swallows hard. He’s scared of Uncle Peter. 

“We’ll all help out,” Scott says, winking at Stiles with a reassuring smile. “We’ll stop by to play with him and make sure everything’s good.” 

“And I’ll be checking in very often,” Derek says to both Stiles and Peter. “I expect constant updates.” 

“Understood.” 

“You’ll keep him safe. That’s an order from the Alpha.” 

“I’ll keep him safe, nephew. I swear on the family we lost that I will protect the family you’ve chosen.” 

Derek nods. “All right, then. That’s what we’ll do.” 

Stiles is too nervous to pay attention for the rest of the meeting. Derek will be gone for two days and one night. That’s a long time to be with Peter. 

It occurs to him that Peter had been willing to help him escape once, and maybe he will again. But that doesn’t really seem important right now. He doesn’t like the idea of escaping when Derek is gone anyway, it’s too scary. He can find a way out some other time. 

Derek can tell that he’s nervous because after the meeting is over and everyone has gone home he takes Stiles upstairs to the rocking chair and cuddles him. “It’ll be scary for Daddy, too,” he murmurs. “Daddy’s going to miss his baby boy so much.” 

“I can go,” Stiles pleads. 

“No, it’s not safe. But Daddy will be back as quickly as possible and when I’m home we’ll spend a whole day doing whatever my little boy wants. We’ll go to the toy store, and eat big bowls of ice cream, and watch all your favorite movies in a blanket fort. I promise.” 

In the moment that’s not very comforting. Stiles sniffles and hugs Derek tightly around the waist as if he could stop him from leaving right now. Derek drops a tiny kiss on the top of his head. 

“It won’t be for a few more days. Uncle Peter is going to take good care of you. And here, Daddy has a surprise. You remember Jordan’s baby boy Jackson? He’s getting used to his new little-boy schedule, and his best friend Danny, a baby like you, is feeling lonely, so his Mommy is going to bring him over for a playdate tomorrow. See, you have lots of friends here besides Daddy. You’ll be just fine.” 

Stiles remembers his last playdate and he wrinkles his nose. Derek sees and swats his bottom playfully. “No pouting, pup. Now, let’s get you in your playpen.” 

Stiles is too nervous for the rest of the day to enjoy his toys. After dinner Derek carries him upstairs and puts him down on the changing table, frowning a little. “You haven’t gone potty all day, have you, pumpkin?” 

Stiles thinks back. It’s true, he hasn’t. Now that he’s thinking about it he does kind of have to go, out both ends, but he hasn’t had to make it happen for a long time. It always just happens on its own. 

“You have to go potty in your diaper. Can you do it on your own, or does Daddy have to help you?” 

Stiles feels himself turn red. “I can’t, Daddy.” 

“Of course you can. You’re making yourself hold it back right now and that’s not healthy. Just let go.” 

It’s easy to make himself pee, even though it’s embarrassing to have to consciously decide to let himself go. “Good boy!” Derek praises. “But we’re not finished yet. You have to push, sweetheart. Daddy will be right here to change you.” 

He can’t. He _really_ can’t. 

“Would it be easier with a clean diaper?” 

He shakes his head. He starts to try, but it’s just too embarrassing. “I don’t have to go,” he pleads, but he knows from the look on Derek’s face that Derek doesn’t believe him. 

“If it’s too hard, Daddy will get the special medicine.” 

_No_ , he hates special medicine. He tries one more time but his brain just won’t let himself do it. He whimpers and Derek hushes him, rubbing the small of his back. 

“It’s okay, my little prince, Daddy’s not mad at you. We just need to make sure you’re healthy, so Daddy will get the special medicine.” 

He’s strapped down to the changing table and given a clean diaper before Derek leaves, Derek probably assuming correctly that Stiles might try to escape to avoid the suppositories. He tries to go again while Derek is gone, straining until his face is red, but something in his brain just keeps him from doing it. After all those months of not having control over it, now he’s just not able to make his body do what he wants. 

Derek comes back quickly and turns him over. “Just one little ouchie for my baby’s bottom,” he says soothingly. “Lay nice and still for Daddy and don’t clench. It’ll only hurt for a second.” 

The suppository is cold, Derek must have put them in the fridge in anticipating that they might be needed. Stiles hasn’t had anything in his ass for a long time—he used to finger himself open or play with adult toys or bottom for other guys, but now he feels tight and small. The suppository burns as Derek pushes it in. Derek’s fingers feel warm after the cold medicine, gentle against Stiles’ hole, and he’s shocked to find that he starts to get hard from the attention. 

“There we go,” Derek coos, not realizing what’s happening. “Now we just wait for the nice medicine to do its work.” He does the diaper back up and picks Stiles up. The soft fabric of the diaper drawing tight against his dick only makes him harder. 

Stiles can feel his insides starting to churn. Derek is humming something to try and distract him, rubbing his belly in a way that has his fingers brushing against the diaper, which is only making him harder. He’s feeling so many confusing and scary things and it’s almost a relief when he feels his bowels move. He pushes so it’ll be over quicker and as soon as his diaper is full Derek puts him back on the changing table and starts to get him clean. 

Derek has touched him back _there_ during diaper changes more times that Stiles can count, but now he keeps remembering the feel of the suppository and the way the diaper had felt against his dick, and the feel of the wipes against his hole are just making him more aroused. Derek finishes cleaning his backside and turns him around to re-powder his front. Stiles sees him notice the erection and his heart sinks. He’s going to get in trouble. Derek is going to take him back to the doctor and make his pee-pee—his _penis_ —smaller now. 

He takes a breath, ready to beg, but Derek doesn’t seem mad. “Is my baby getting excited?” he says gently. “Daddy doesn’t want his little boy to be frustrated. Would my baby like Daddy to help him feel good?” 

Stiles stares up at him in shock. Is Derek really offering to get him off? 

“I know babies like you can use their pee-pees to feel nice all over. But since you’re too little to do it yourself, Daddy can help. Just so my poor baby doesn’t feel frustrated and upset.” 

Derek has touched his penis before, of course, the clinical handling of his privates during diaper changes. But this is something else entirely. Stiles hasn’t had an orgasm in over six months now and he nods, heart pounding. 

“Okay, sweetheart.” Derek pumps lotion into his hand and begins to stroke him gently. Stiles moans, trying to thrust into the touches. It feels _so good_. 

“Oh, there we go. That’s good, isn’t it? My little boy is feeling so nice now.” Derek’s voice is a low murmur, but he doesn’t seem aroused a bit. Stiles has never considered before if Derek is sexually attracted to him, but this clears up any confusion fast: Derek isn’t doing this for his own pleasure. He’s just treating it like any other need he has to fulfill for Stiles. 

Knowing that, though, doesn’t make it any less stimulating. “Daddy…Daddy, I’m gonna…” 

“I know. Go ahead. Daddy will clean it up.” 

Stiles lets out a guttural wail as he lets go. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to come and for a second he sees stars. Derek wipes off his tummy and thighs. “How did that feel, sweetheart?” 

“Good, Daddy,” he whispers. It’s hard to talk, he’s so exhausted and overwhelmed from the orgasm. “Th-thank you, thank you, Daddy…” 

“You’re welcome, baby. Daddy thinks it’s okay to give your pee-pee nice touches every few nights, since you’re a grown-up baby and your body has needs. Maybe we’ll even get a new stuffed animal whose special job it is to help my little boy feel good.” Derek gives him more power and puts on a fresh diaper. “But no touching it yourself. That’s still a very important rule. Daddy thinks his little boy can be trusted to keep his big-boy pee-pee, but if you break your rules Daddy will have to rethink that.” 

“I’ll be good, Daddy. Promise.” Stiles is breathing heavily and Derek smiles fondly at him before carrying him to the rocking chair for his bedtime story. Nothing is different for the rest of the night. 

The next morning his pee-pee is hard again when he wakes up and he hopes that Derek will take care of it, but Derek just ignores it and goes on diapering him up. When he’s finished he lifts Stiles high into the air—sometimes Stiles is still stunned to realize just how _strong_ he is—and kisses him all over his belly before putting him in a new onesie. “Playdate time,” he says cheerfully. 

Yuck, he’s almost forgotten about the playdate. Derek has already brought his toys downstairs so he can share them with Danny and Stiles sits with them protectively. He doesn’t want anyone else to touch Sheriff or his piano. 

There’s a knock on the door and Derek goes to answer it. A woman he’s never seen before carry a boy in. He’s dressed in a onesie like Stiles with a pacifier in his mouth. 

“Oh boy!” the woman says to him. “Look at all these fun toys here to play with!” She carefully puts Danny down on the floor next to Stiles and takes his pacifier out. 

“Hi,” Danny says to Stiles. “I have mermaids.” 

Stiles blinks at him. 

“Mermaid dolls,” the woman clarifies, putting down a big case shaped like a seashell. She undoes the clasp and Stiles can see twelve Barbie-esque mermaids, all with differently colored tails and hair. “The biggest hit from Christmas this year.” 

Danny takes a mermaid out of the case and gives it Stiles. It’s so pretty. The tail is a bright blue and it’s a boy mermaid with short wavy hair. It kind of looks like Derek. He can bend it at the waist and move the arms and tail. 

“Mermaids sit on the rocks and drown the ships,” Danny says knowledgably as he takes a mermaid of his own and scoots it along the carpet like it’s swimming. “And they find treasures in the sand.” 

“Treasure?” Stiles repeats, turning onto his stomach so he can move the mermaid doll along the carpet too. He’s never played with Barbie dolls before, or any type of doll, but these are so pretty and cool that he doesn’t mind it being a girl toy. 

“Uh-huh.” Danny sees the fake gold coins Stiles uses when he’s playing pirate and points. “That can be treasure. I’ll hide it and then your mermaid can find it.” 

Stiles closes his eyes. He can hear Danny moving around for a few minutes, and then Danny prodded his shoulder. “All done. Find.” 

Some of the coins are in plain sight but some are hidden, so he has to crawl all over to find them. Danny is giggling the whole time and Stiles starts giggling too. Danny isn’t patronizing him at all like some of the pack members do, they’re having _fun._ He finds the last coin sitting under Sheriff but he’s not mad that Danny touched his puppy, he just squeals and pulls it out. 

Danny squeals too. “You finded it all! My turn!” 

Stiles hides the coins as quickly as possible and waits for Danny to find them. He starts to chase Danny’s mermaid with his own, pretending it’s a sea monster, and eventually the search for treasure is abandoned so the mermaids can swim together. Danny gets out more, some have buttons he can push that makes their tails flap. 

“Mommy make’d me an ocean in the tub for my mermaids to swim,” Danny tells him. “And I can take them in the pool when it’s not cold anymore. You can come play with me and my mermaids. My bestest friend is Jackie but it’s okay to have more than one, Mommy said so.” 

Stiles feels a little jealous of Jackson for a second. Then Danny pulls out another mermaid for him and says they should do races, and he’s just having fun again. 

They play with the mermaids for a while, then Stiles wants to show Danny his instruments so Danny can play the guitar while he plays piano. They do that until Stiles gets a headache and then they play with the mermaids again. They’re all so pretty and perfect, and the boy one who looks like Derek is his favorite. 

The grown-ups are on the couch talking and Stiles almost forgets about them. One of Danny’s mermaids has just gotten stuck on some rocks and Stiles’ mermaids are going to save him when the woman crouches down next to them. “Time to go home, Danny-boy.” 

“More play, Mommy.” 

“No, we need to get you home for dinner, and you need to use your diaper soon. Say bye-bye.” 

Danny pouts. “Bye-bye, Stiles,” he says, making an absolute mess out of Stiles’ name. Stiles reluctantly gives back the mermaids and watches the woman pack them up in the seashell case. 

“Next time Jackson can come play too,” Danny tells him as Jordan picks him up. 

“Okay.” Stiles waves goodbye. He feels sad that Danny is leaving. He was nice, much nicer than Donovan. And he’d shared his mermaids, which had been the coolest toys Stiles has ever seen. He wishes he had one that he could make swim in the tub. 

Derek picks him up after Danny and his Mommy leave. “Was Daddy right, pup? Did you have fun?” 

Stiles nods. “I like Danny,” he whispers. 

“Good. I think he liked you too. Let’s have lunch.” 

After lunch Stiles takes his nap. He wakes up early, feeling pressure in his belly. He has to go again, and he really _really_ doesn’t want to have to take special medicine. He strains, pushing against his belly like Derek does to help him. This time he doesn’t give up and keeps pushing until it works. His face breaks out into a huge grin. _No medicine!_ Now he feels yucky, though; he needs to be changed. “Daddy!” he shouts. “Daddy, I went potty all by myself!” 

Derek hurries into the room, grinning. “Did you, my sweet boy? Good job! Let’s clean you up.” 

Stiles feels incredibly proud of himself. Some faraway, floaty part of his brain tells him that he’s being ridiculous, celebrating the fact that he just shit his pants, but that part of his brain has to be wrong because Derek is telling him what a good job he did. Derek is proud of him and he doesn’t have to have the suppositories, that’s all that matters. 

After Derek puts him into a new diaper Stiles nuzzles into him. He had really loved Danny’s mermaids, he wishes he still had them here to play with. “Daddy?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

He feels almost shy. Maybe scared. He’s asked for things before, bottles or a second bedtime story or for Derek to bring a certain toy to the playpen, but he’s never asked for a present or really special treat. What if Derek gets mad at him? “D-do you think maybe I could have mermaids like Danny?” 

Derek smiles at him. “You liked Danny’s dolls? Of course you can get your own. I’ll call Danny’s mommy and see where they bought them.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. You never ask for new toys, so if it’s something you really want I’m happy to buy it for you.” 

Stiles feels his face break out into a dazzling smiles. He wraps his arms around Derek’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy!” 

Derek kisses his cheek and hugs him tight. “Anything for you, pup.” 

X 

Derek finds the mermaid dolls on a special website where each toy can be customized. He lets Stiles sit on his lap so he can design all twelve mermaids that come in the case. Stiles spends a long time on it, choosing sex and tail color and hair painstakingly. Derek finds it adorable. Except for Sheriff he’s never seen Stiles so invested in a toy before. 

When Stiles has finally created all his mermaids he gets to choose the carrying case they come in. He picks a pirate ship and Derek pulls out his credit card to pay. “There we go,” he says, selecting the rush shipping option. “Now, what do you say to Daddy?” 

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you!” Without any prompting Stiles throws his arms around Derek’s neck and kisses his cheek. For a second Derek thinks he might be about to drop the L-word again, but he’s not quite there yet, and he only hugs Derek tighter. “I can take them into the bath?” 

Derek grins. “Of course you can.” 

Stiles looks very satisfied. “You can play too, Daddy,” he says generously. 

“Thanks, pup.” Derek looks down at his happy little boy. Stiles is teetering right at the edge of full regression. He almost he wishes he wasn’t going away, that might undo all his hard work, but the Society recommends leaving the baby for a few days after the sixth-month mark. It usually makes the baby realize how much they need and miss and love their daddy. 

After Stiles’ dinner Derek takes him into the living room and sits on the couch. He gently lowers Stiles down to the ground so his feet are touching the floor, holding his hands tightly so he won’t fall. Stiles wobbles, not having stood for five months. “Daddy?” he asks nervously. 

“Daddy thought it might be nice to teach my little boy how to walk.” 

Stiles’ eyes light up. He tries to get his balance. “Don’t let go,” he commands as his legs shake. 

Derek holds onto him as he tests his legs out, bending and wiggling his toes. After he feels comfortable enough he shakes free of Derek and tries to step forward. He falls immediately, collapsing onto his bottom. His lip pokes out and Derek expects him to cry, but instead he just reaches for Derek to help him back up again. 

Eventually Derek helps him to hang on to the side of the coffee table so he can use it to shuffle forward. When Derek is sure he’s doing okay he scoots backwards on the carpet and holds out his arms. “C’mere, pup, come to Daddy,” he coos. 

Stiles looks kind of scared to let go of the coffee table, but Derek keeps encouraging him and after a few moments he steps away and starts to toddle towards Derek. His hands are held out front for balance, face all scrunched with concentration, and Derek doesn’t think he’s ever been cuter. He only makes it halfway before falling and Derek quickly scoops him up. “You did it!” he praises. “You almost made it all the way to Daddy, what a big boy!” 

“Again!” 

“No more tonight, pup, we’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Stiles starts to pout but Derek just kisses his nose and carries him upstairs for bathtime. 

After the baby is freshly powdered and diapered Derek spends some extra time cuddling with him in the rocking chair, figuring it’s best to shower him with love and attention now to make up for the time he’ll be gone. “Did you know you’re the most special little boy in the whole world?” he asks softly. 

Stiles blinks sleepily up at him, the pacifier he likes to have before bed moving rhythmically as he sucks. 

“Yes, you are. Daddy knew as soon as he saw you what a special baby you were. Daddy is so lucky that he found you out of all the other little babies there. What if someone else had come in and snatched up Daddy’s favorite boy first?” Derek pretends to shudder elaborately. “Daddy wouldn’t want any other baby besides his Stiles.” 

Sometimes he rereads Stiles’ file just to remind himself of what the baby’s been through. All those bad homes, and even the good ones, that he was shuffled in and out of until he was taught that nobody would ever want to keep him forever. Derek’s heart wells with tenderness at the thought of it and he kisses his little prince’s forehead softly. “Such a perfect, beautiful, special little baby. You’re Daddy’s whole heart. Nothing could ever make Daddy stop loving his sweetest boy.” 

Stiles’ eyes are closed, but he smiles around his pacifier and nestles in closer next to Derek. Derek keeps rocking him until he’s fast asleep. 

X 

Derek is getting ready to leave. Stiles sits in the living room, pretending to play with his toys and swallowing down a lump in his throat as Derek brings his suitcase to the main hall and talks about emergency numbers with Peter. 

Peter’s brought his puppy over, a big white dog who licks Stiles’ face. He’s cuddly and Stiles pets him, hugging him tightly until the dog hears a sound at the window and runs away. Stiles pretends his pout is because the puppy left, not because he’s sad about Derek leaving. 

Eventually Derek comes over and sits on the floor with him. “Okay, sweetheart,” he says softly. “Daddy has to go now.” 

Stiles nods, keeping his eyes trained on his toys. 

“I’ll call as soon as my plane lands and I’ll be back before you know it. Sh, Stiles, it’s okay.” Derek pulls him into his lap and wipes gently wipes tears off his face. “Don’t cry, little one.” 

He hadn’t even realized he was crying. He sniffles back the tears angrily. _Dumb_ , so dumb to be upset. It’s good that Derek is going away. Maybe Stiles will finally be able to break this bond between them and get out of here, so he can go back to his normal life. 

“You’re going to have so much fun with Uncle Peter. How about you make something nice for Daddy, a valentine or a picture, and give it to me when I come back? Uncle Peter will help you. And I’ll bring you back something special, a special treat for my very favorite boy.” Derek waits to see if Stiles has any response, but he just keeps sniffling into Derek’s chest. “Okay, baby. I love you.” 

He starts to move Stiles out of his lap and Stiles panics. He doesn’t want to be left here! What if Derek isn’t _ever_ coming back, what if he’s gotten bored with Stiles like Uncle Peter said, and Stiles isn’t his special boy anymore, and he’s going to leave Stiles with Uncle Peter _forever?_

The thought breaks the dam. He wails and wraps his arms around Derek’s neck. “Don’t go, Daddy!” 

“Sh, sh. My sweet baby, my sweet Stiles, don’t cry.” Dadd— _Derek_ — rocks him. “Just for a little while, so Daddy can bring the new werewolf here, a nice werewolf to be your friend. Daddy will tell the new werewolf all about his favorite boy, and I bet he’ll come with me right away so he can meet you. I’ll be as quick as possible and I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.” 

Stiles just keeps crying and holding on. Maybe if he doesn’t let go Derek will decide to stay, he’ll decide it’s better to stay right here with Stiles and cuddle him and read him a bedtime story and blow raspberries on his tummy. 

“Daddy loves you so much,” Derek croons. “So, so much, my beautiful boy.” He stands with Stiles and carries him over to Uncle Peter. “Give me a kiss, sweetheart.” 

Stiles kisses his cheek and tries to cling to him as he’s passed over to Uncle Peter. Maybe he should tell Derek he loves him. Maybe that would make him stay. But he’s crying too hard to say the words and they’re scary words and everything is too scary already. 

Uncle Peter holds him tightly, patting his back. He’s strong but it still doesn’t feel like Derek. Derek gives Stiles one more kiss. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. I love you.” 

He picks up his bags and walks out. Stiles can’t stop crying. He’s not really going to leave, is he? He’s going to come back and say just kidding, he was only playing a silly joke, of course he’s going to stay right here with his little boy. 

He doesn’t come back. 

Peter holds Stiles for a while, patting his back kind of awkwardly. The dog sits at Peter’s feet and looks up at them anxiously. “He’ll be back tomorrow night,” Peter reminds Stiles. His voice isn’t mean, but it doesn’t make Stiles feel any better. 

Eventually Peter just puts Stiles down on the ground and Stiles curls up amongst his toys, clutching Sheriff to his chest. Peter’s dog curls around him protectively. He cries until he’s so exhausted he just falls asleep. 

When he wakes up he wonders for a disoriented second why Derek left him on the floor, if he falls asleep somewhere Derek always carries him to his crib before he wakes up. 

Then he remembers Derek went away. 

He starts sniffling again and Peter crouches down next to him, looking doubtful. “If this is an act for my benefit, it isn’t necessary,” he says drily. 

Stiles hides his face. 

“Or not.” Peter sighs and picks him up. Stiles kind of wants to curl into him, but he’s not Derek so it won’t feel the same. “What ever happened to you being desperate to get away from him, hm? I expected you to be crawling t my feet asking me to let you go.” 

Stiles just keeps crying. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to try and get away, all he wants to do is wait for Derek. 

“You need to calm down.” Peter pats his back. His hand is very firm, but it’s actually sort of calming. He sits on the couch and keeps patting him until Stiles’ sobs trail into hiccups. 

Eventually Scott stops by to make sure everything is okay and entices Stiles into a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Peter joins in, he doesn’t let Stiles win like everyone else does, but that’s okay. When Scott leaves Peter lets Stiles sit in his lap again, hand rubbing a circle on his back. 

He’s almost drifted off to sleep again when Peter’s phone rings. He pulls it out and exhales in relief. “This should make you feel better.” He accepts the call and the screen fills with video of Derek. 

“Made it,” Derek says, voice tired. “I’m at my hotel now. Move the screen, I can’t see Stiles’ face.” Peter adjusts the phone and Stiles can see himself in the tiny video box. His longish hair is all mussed and his face is red. He hasn’t really looked at himself for a while and he’s surprised by how young he looks. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you okay?” 

“Daddy,” Stiles whimpers. “Come home.” 

“I will soon, baby. I’m meeting the werewolf tomorrow. Hopefully if he’s receptive we can even get back a little early. I’ll call before we take off. Peter, has he used his diaper yet?” 

“No.” 

“Make sure he goes before bed. Stiles, listen to Daddy. You have to go potty. Uncle Peter will change you. Promise me you’ll go so Uncle Peter won’t have to give you your special medicine.” 

That’s the last thing Stiles wants. “I promise, Daddy.” 

“Good boy. Are you having fun?” 

Stiles nods slowly. 

“Good. I know Uncle Peter will take good care of you, so be good for him. Uncle Peter will read you a story before bed. I’ll call tomorrow morning, okay?” 

After he hangs up Stiles feels like crying again. He hadn’t realized it would be this hard to be away from Derek. Peter carries him upstairs and leaves him on the changing table with the instruction to “do his business” like he’s a dog, but he _does_ have to go, so he uses his diaper quickly before calling for Peter. 

Peter changes him quickly and efficiently, nose a little wrinkled in disgust. “Do you _really_ want a bedtime story?” he asks doubtfully after putting Stiles in pyjamas. 

Stiles shakes his head. He only likes when Derek reads to him, or sometimes Erica. 

“Good.” Peter carries him to the crib. “You’re not going to try and escape, are you? I don’t have to put on the cover?” 

“No.” Escaping would be stupid, he would only run into bad wolves and Derek isn’t here to help him. 

“Okay. Sleep tight, little human.” Peter shuts off the lights and walks out. It takes a long time for Stiles to fall asleep. 

He forgets again in the morning that Derek is gone, and that makes him sad. He’d wet his diaper when he was asleep just like always and Peter changes him again. “So he’s got you brainwashed, then?” he asks almost cheerfully as he puts on power. “You’re just his happy little baby boy?” 

Stiles blushes. He’s _not_. He’s just not being fussy. The only way he’s ever going to get out of here is by convincing Derek to let him go, and he can’t do that while Derek isn’t even here, so why bother acting up for Peter?” 

“Come on, I know that can’t be true. This is an act, isn’t it? You’d be happy to take a knife to my throat if I gave you the chance. Hell, you’re probably dreaming at night of killing us all.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Stiles says, horrified at the thought. “Don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

Peter just snorts and makes him a bottle. Stiles knows that Peter will let him act big if he wants to, but he doesn’t want to be big. He _can’t_ be big. He wants to stay little so Derek will come home and treat him exactly as he had before he left. 

Derek calls again, but he can’t talk for very long because he’s found the werewolf. “I might hit him over the head and drag him to the plane,” he tells Peter. “I hate being here.” 

“Because of the humans?” 

“Exactly.” Derek smiles reassuringly at Stiles. “I only love _one_ human, and here’s not here.” 

Peter makes a disapproving sound and ends the call before Stiles can even say goodbye. 

Stiles plays on the floor with one his puzzles while Peter sits on the couch silently. He seems angry. Maybe because he knows Derek is with humans and he hates humans. Stiles understands why he does, but he wants Peter to know he doesn’t have to hate Stiles. “I know about the bad lady,” he says softly. 

“What?” 

“The bad lady who hurt your family. Dadd— Derek told me about her.” 

Peter stares at him for a second. “Did he tell you he thought he was in love with her?” he says harshly. “He was a child, he didn’t know any better, but yes, he thought he loved a human. I’d hoped, perhaps, that he would have learned his lesson there, but evidently not.” 

Stiles frowns. “I’m not bad.” 

“Yes, yes,” Peter says dismissively, looking down at his phone. 

“I lived with a bad lady once.” Stiles returns to his puzzle. He doesn’t really know why he’s saying this stuff. He just feels like talking. “She locked me in the closet when I was bad. Or sometimes just because. D-Daddy knows. He said he wouldn’t ever do that to me.” 

“He does love you,” Peter says quietly. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Maybe he can only love humans. I can’t begin to understand.” 

“He doesn’t just love humans.” Stiles finishes his puzzle and smiles at it in satisfaction. Peter’s dog, formerly asleep by the window, pads over and curls up next to him. He thinks he might love the dog. He even thinks Peter is okay. “He loves you, too.” 

Peter laughs. 

“He does. Or he wouldn’t have left me with you. He said you were the only family he had before me and family is the most important thing, I know ‘cause I never had one before. Can I have a bottle?” 

Peter stares at him for a second, then goes into the kitchen to get the bottle. Stiles plays happily with the dog until he comes back. 

The rest of the day is a little bit better. Stiles practicing his walking, those it’s not as fun without Derek holding his hands and telling him what a good job he’s doing. Peter asks him some more questions about Derek, how he treats Stiles and the things he’s said about the pack and Peter. Stiles doesn’t know why but it kind of makes him feel better to talk about Derek, so he answers the questions happily. 

“You love him too, don’t you?” Peter says quietly after Stiles’ afternoon nap. 

Stiles blushes. He doesn’t think he’s ready to say that yet. 

“You do,” Peter says, as if Stiles had answered. 

“Nice to have family,” Stiles mutters. 

“Yes.” Peter stares away from Stiles. His face looks sad. “It is.” 

Stiles thinks about Peter’s question as he’s carried downstairs. He doesn’t really love Derek, does he? If he does, then he’s stuck here. He’ll never leave. That’s a big thing to contemplate, too big for someone as little as him. He catches himself thinking that, that he’s too little to decide, and his face flushes. He’s _not_ little. He _should_ be trying to escape. But if he loves Derek, if he’s okay with and maybe even likes being treated like a baby… _Why?_

What’s he missing out in the world, after all? At the moment he can’t imagine why he would want anything other than Derek and cuddles and bedtime stories and big kisses. Nobody else but Derek and his pack loves him. Why would he run away from that? 

Derek calls soon enough. He’s coming home, about to get on his plane. “I’ll be there within two hours,” he tells Stiles. “Just in time to read you your bedtime story.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise. I’ve missed my little boy so much. Let me talk to Uncle Peter for a second.” 

Peter takes the phone from Derek. “You see, I’ve kept him alive for you.” 

“I know. Thank you, Peter. I mean it. I know it was difficult for you, but I hope you see now what I see in him.” 

Peter’s lip curve up slightly. “I’ll admit he’s got his charms.” 

“He does. Thank you again, Peter. Having you care for him means a lot to me. It’s good to know that I can trust him with you whenever I’m gone and you’re acting Alpha. Our pack is lucky to have you, Peter, and I’m lucky to have you, so thank you. Put Stiles back on.” 

Peter passes the phone over. Derek smiles at him. “Be sure to give Uncle Peter a big thank-you for taking such good care of you.” 

“I will, Daddy.” 

“All right, I’m taking off. Get ready for a big, big hug when I’m home, sweetheart. See you soon.” 

He hangs up. Stiles is on Peter’s lap, bouncing a little with happiness at the thought of Derek coming home. He wraps his arms around Peter’s neck and hugs him. “Thank you for taking care of me, Uncle Peter.” 

“You’re welcome.” Peter sounds a bit distracted. He stares at the picture of Derek and Stiles that hangs in the living room, the one where Stiles is in Derek’s lap staring up at his smiling face. “Shit,” he mutters. “ _Shit_.” 

Stiles frowns. “What’s wrong?” 

“We’re going upstairs.” Peter picks him up and briskly starts to carry him, when he’s interrupted by the doorbell. The dog starts to bark in alarm. Stiles has never heard the doorbell before, the pack always knocks or walks right in. 

“Shit,” Peter says again. He adjusts Stiles, holding him a little tighter, and walks towards the door. 

When he opens it Stiles sees Theo Raeken, smiling a little as he leans against the doorframe. Stiles’ breath catches. Theo’s not allowed on Derek’s territory. “Ah, Peter. Good. Hand him over.” 

“About that.” Peter’s arm clamps Stiles protectively to his side. “I’ve changed my mind.” 

The smile drops from Raeken’s face. “You’ve what?” 

“You heard me. Our plan is off.” 

“So you’ve decided you don’t want to be the Hale Alpha anymore?” 

“I don’t wish to overthrow my nephew. Especially not this way. I won’t use his family against him, that’s…that’s too cruel, especially after what we’ve been through.” 

Raeken huffs. “See, Peter, I’m confused. Because just yesterday you were completely on board. You were the one who _suggested_ I take the boy into neutral territory so Derek would come after me and you could kill him there. Remember? And I hate to push, but you promised me two betas from the Hale pack for my own, and my pack is small. I need those betas.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen with horror. 

“I’m familiar with the plan, Raeken, I’m just changing it. I’ll be staying with my pack, and you can run along home. I revoke permission for you to be on Hale land.” 

“He’s a human, Peter. Just a human.” 

“He’s Derek’s human. He’s not like…like _her_. I won’t change my mind. I want you gone.” 

Raeken sighs and stands up straight. “Fine. Although…well, I’m thinking. The plan is a good one, I’ll give you credit for that. And really, you being out of it doesn’t change much, except that I get to kill Derek and take _all_ of the Hale pack. I wouldn’t kill the boy like you planned, just take him for my own, my wife has been wanting a human for a pet. In fact, you being gone actually makes this a far more profitable venture for me.” 

“I won’t let you,” Peter says calmly. 

“Of course you will. Have you forgotten? I’m an alpha now.” Raeken’s face changes, eyes glowing, and a claw swipes through the air towards Stiles’ throat. Peter turns to protect him and Raeken changes position, slashing Peter across the throat instead. 

Peter chokes and starts to fall. Raeken simply plucks Stiles out of his arms, holding him tightly, so tightly he can’t move. Peter’s dog howls and leaps for them, but Raeken just clucks and kicks him aside. “Thanks for the assistance, Peter,” he says, stepping back and slamming the door closed. 

Stiles gasps for air, unable to believe what just happened. Raeken looks at him and grimaces. 

“That was unpleasant,” he says calmly. 

Stiles screams. Scott and Kira will hear, or Isaac, or _someone_. Raeken immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, only chuckling when Stiles tries to bite it. “None of that.” His face is still bristled and he begins to run, loping over the grass at inhuman speed at he heads for the woods. “Don’t you worry,” he promises Stiles. “Derek will track us and come right for you. You’ll be seeing him again soon. For a few moments, anyway, before I kill him.” 

Stiles wails behind Raeken’s hand, thrashing in his arms as Derek’s house slowly fades from view.


	12. Chapter 12

Theo takes him into the woods. The sun has gone down and Stiles can’t see at all, can only hear twigs crunching and branches whipping past and the sounds of surprised animals watching them pass. 

He hits Raeken with his fists, hitting is against the rules but he thinks even Derek would make an exception right now. Raeken ignores him, keeping up a steady pace until he finally slows and stops in the middle of a clearing. 

“There,” he says in satisfaction, letting Stiles drop to the ground. “Now we wait.” 

Stiles scrabbles on the ground for something he can use, a rock or something sharp. There’s a branch on the ground with a pointy end and he grips it, wondering if it’s sharp enough to break werewolf skin. 

“Hold still.” Raeken grabs his arm, rolling up the onesie sleeve to expose his skin. He cuts into Stiles and makes him cry out as blood wells from the cut. “Derek will be frantic when he smells your blood,” he tells Stiles cheerfully. “He won’t be able to smell me hiding. I’m just going to tie you up in that tree over there, and then when Derek comes and tries to get you down I can jump out at him. You should hide your eyes for that part.” 

“He won’t come,” Stiles sniffles. 

“Of course he will, pet. He would never leave you out here, not only because it’s neutral territory and I have the right to hurt you, but because we’re only a mile from the border. We’re separated from humans by miles and miles of forest, so they can’t find us, and the border is monitored by guards to make sure none of our humans escape. If you get to the border, you’ll either be killed by them or manage to slip through and be lost to him forever. So he’ll come, and soon. Be a good boy and don’t struggle, now.” 

He reaches down to grab Stiles around the waist and Stiles thrusts his stick upwards with all his might. Raeken yells, hands coming up to cover his eye, and Stiles just keeps pushing, digging it in until Raeken drops to his knees. 

Stiles is still a little wobbly when he tries to walk, but he stumbles to his feet and gets away from Raeken as fast as he can. His brain remembers how to do it, telling him that this is an emergency and he can’t think, just move. He runs without looking back. 

X 

Derek is extremely relieved to be home. He’d known it was time to go back out into the world, but he hadn’t expected to miss his baby this much. 

After the plane lands he takes the new werewolf— Liam— to the town processing center, where he’ll receive all the information he needs to know to integrate himself into the community. The boy had been pretty stunned at what Derek had told him, and he clings to Derek a bit, but that’s all right. With any luck he’ll gravitate towards joining Derek’s pack. That’s one of the reasons Derek had decided it was time to start going back out and rescuing werewolves— they tend to join the packs of whoever saves them, and his pack could use some more betas. 

He’s bought a train set for the baby and he starts home, looking forward to seeing Stiles. Based on the phone conversations they’ve had it seems like the separation only speeded along his ultimate regression. Tonight he’ll spend some extra time cuddling him and let him come before bed, that always puts him in a good mood. 

He pulls into his house and is going to get the train set when he hears frantic barking coming from inside. He frowns and leaves the toy, hurrying up to his front door with a small pit of dread forming in his stomach. 

When he opens the door he sees Peter on the floor, his dog standing over him sounding the alarm. Peter is moving slowly, hand over his throat. The ground beneath him is slippery with blood. 

Derek snarls and drops down to his knees. Peter is healing, but slowly. He’d be dead if he was a human. “What happened? Where’s Stiles?” 

Peter groans in pain. “Raeken. Theo Raeken took him.” 

Derek’s vision hazes red. _Raeken_. He came onto Derek’s territory without permission to take his little boy, probably to kill him in retaliation for how Derek humiliated Raeken months ago. He starts to stand, but Peter reaches out to grab his wrist. 

“My fault,” Peter chokes out. “I gave him permission. We were going to overthrow you, but…I tried to stop him, Derek. I swear. He’s going to take Stiles out into the woods, set him up in a trap, and then I was going to attack you by surprise from the back. Don’t follow him and maybe he’ll bring the boy back. Or if you do go, you have to stay in control and make sure he doesn’t let you get distracted— he always goes for the throat, so maybe you can try and set a trap for him…” 

Derek stares at Peter in shock. Betrayal, the type of betrayal he’s only felt once before, nearly takes his breath away, but he doesn’t have time to wallow in it right now. He stands without another word to Peter and shifts. He can’t smell Stiles in this form, but he can smell Raeken, so the trail is easy to follow. 

The trail goes deep into the woods and Derek wonders for a second if he’s taking Stiles towards the border, letting him loose in the hopes he’ll run for it. Derek will have to chase after him so he doesn’t end up getting killed by the border guards, and while he’s distracted Raeken could kill him easily. 

He smells blood and nearly loses control. There’s a clearing up ahead and he can see Raeken, one hand braced against a tree with the other is clamped over his eye. Stiles is nowhere in sight. 

Is this some kind of trap? 

Raeken sees him and takes his hand away from his bloodshot eye. “Looking for your human?” he rasps. “The little fuck nearly took my eye out and ran. He’ll be at the border soon enough. What do you think? Will he make it through, or will the guards tear him up?” 

Derek snarls and jumps forward. Raeken wants him to run after Stiles, so he’ll be easy to take out, but Derek’s not falling for it. Just as Peter had said Raeken goes for the throat and Derek lets him come, waits until he’s a breath away before he moves. He drives Raeken against the tree and tries to gouge out his other eye. 

Raeken gets the upper hand, shoving Derek away and going again for the throat. Derek dives, getting around off-balance around the legs so he falls. Raeken anticipates that Derek will try and tear out his throat, so he tries to roll and protect it, but that wasn’t Derek’s plan at all. Instead he sinks a claw into the top of Raeken’s belly and with his other hand pulls Raeken up until he’s high in the air and Derek has sliced his stomach open. 

Raeken’s eyes bulge and Derek lets him fall to the ground in a bloody, messy heap. He’s wheezing but Derek ignores any last words as he shifts back and wipes his hands clean on Raeken’s pants. 

“Never cross an Alpha,” he says coldly as Raeken’s eyes fade from red to black. He lets Raeken take his last breaths alone as he tries to find Stiles’ trail. He can’t shift, since Stiles’ scent is blocked from shifted werewolves, but he can hardly track at all in his human form. He follows the faint scent, but he honestly isn’t sure if he’ll be able to find the baby this way. 

If Stiles dies, Derek will never forgive himself. He loves the boy. He honestly hadn’t been sure if that would happen, back when he first took him, but now, six months later, things are different than Derek had expected. 

He’d expected to see Kate every time he looked at his baby. Kate the way she should have been, adoring Derek, in awe of what he was, completely immobilized as a threat. A human totally under his control and unable to hurt any werewolves. 

Instead, when he looks at Stiles, he sees…family. Everything Kate had taken from him. He knows Peter blames him for what happened to everyone else, and resents him for being Alpha. His packmates love him, but they have their own families too, and it’s just not the same. 

He needs that little boy loving him. He needs Stiles to stay forever a child depending on Derek for everything. Stiles can’t die. He can’t escape. Derek has to find him and take him home, because he can’t lose another family member. 

He runs as fast as he can, praying that Stiles will do something to make his presence known. 

X 

Stiles runs until he can’t feel his legs, then he alternates walking and crawling. It’s cold and he can’t see. He doesn’t know if Raeken is chasing him, or what else is in these woods that might hurt him. 

He shivers and sniffles. What is he supposed to do? He doesn’t know the way back. Raeken had said that the border was close by, but even if he makes it through, who knows how much longer he’ll have to walk before someone finds him? 

And even if he _does_ get through the border, and even if he _does_ get rescued, the police don’t have anyone to call to come and give him a hug and tell him he’s safe now and take care of him. There’s nobody to give him his bedtime story and rock him to sleep. Nobody to change his diapers— nobody to even understand why he’s _wearing_ a diaper. He’ll be expected to put this past him and get a job and be a grown-up. No more toys and afternoon naps and Dora the Explorer and blanket forts… 

His bottom feels cold and soggy. He’s used his diaper and there’s no one here to change him. His skin is all scratched up from branches. He wants his lotion, that nice lavender-smelling stuff Dadd— Derek puts on him every night that makes his skin so soft. And Sheriff, he wants his puppy. His mermaids will be coming in just a few days. He was going to play with them in the bath, he’d already picked out names for them, and if he leaves now he won’t even get to see them. 

And what about Derek? If Stiles escapes, Derek will be sad. And maybe…maybe he’ll find another little boy in a few years, and bring _him_ home, and let him sleep in Stiles’ crib and play with his toys. He’ll tell the new baby what a special little prince he is, much more special than the bad little boy who ran away years ago. 

Stiles tries to make it a few more steps, but he trips over something and goes flying. He falls down some little embankment and lands hard on his wet bottom. It’s the last straw. His face screws up. He’s tired, and cold, and hurt, and he just wants…he wants… 

He sobs and tips his head up to the sky. “Daddy!” he wails. 

He wants Daddy! He wants Daddy to come and pick him up and hug him tight. He wants Daddy to give him big kisses and a warm bath. He needs Daddy right now so badly that he wants to lay down on the ground and scream and stomp his feet and drum his fists against the earth until Daddy comes. 

Daddy will make it all better, just like always. He always keeps Stiles safe and warm and fed and happy. He went away, and look what happened, the bad wolf came and took Stiles away. Stiles doesn’t ever want to leave Daddy, he just wants to go home. Home is where his toys are, and his bottles. Home is where Daddy is. That’s the only place he wants to be. 

He can hear something snuffling around in the bushes, some bad animal who wants to eat him up. Stiles curls into a ball and sobs for his Daddy. He wants Daddy, he wants Daddy _now!_ “Daddy,” he wails again, “Daddy, Daddy, _Daddy_ …” 

It happens so quickly that he doesn’t even register being picked up, he’s just on the ground one moment and in Daddy’s arms the next. He isn’t scared a bit, realizing immediately who it is that’s picked him up. He shrieks happily and throws his arms around Daddy’s neck, rubbing his cheek against Daddy’s stubble. He knew Daddy would come! “Daddy!” he cries with pure joy, clinging to Daddy with all his strength. 

“Oh, my baby,” Daddy croons, kissing him all over. “My poor, poor baby. Daddy’s here. Are you all right? Did the bad man hurt my little prince?” 

Stiles shakes his head. Daddy’s here and he’s safe now, but he’s sobbing again, out of relief and exhaustion. “He tried to take me away,” he wails. 

“I know, pumpkin, I know.” 

“He tried to take me away from Daddy!” 

“Sh, I know he tried to do that awful thing, but he didn’t hurt you. And you got away from him all by yourself, didn’t you, my clever boy.” Daddy’s voice is saturated in pride and relief as he cuddles Stiles tightly. “And Daddy made sure he’ll never, ever hurt my baby again. He’s all gone now. Daddy’s here to take care of you.” 

Stiles is still crying. He wants Daddy to know how he feels right now. It’s like a dam burst and washed out all the dirty water to replace it with water that’s sparkling and clean. His bad, confused thoughts are gone now, and he knows he just wants to be with his Daddy forever and ever. Daddy might not know, he might think that Stiles is still trying to be big and escape. 

“Don’t ever want anyone to take me away from my Daddy,” he sniffles. “Don’t want to go back with bad humans. Don’t want to be big, just want to be with Daddy. ‘M sorry, Daddy, sorry I was bad before, but I’ll be good now.” 

“Oh, sweetheart! You weren’t being bad, you were just so confused and little. Daddy knows how hard it was. But Daddy knew you would see that you belong here in Daddy’s arms. You’re going to be my good little boy forever, aren’t you?” 

Stiles’ face breaks out into a dazzling smile. Daddy understands! He’s not mad at Stiles at all! “Uh-huh, Daddy!” 

“And Daddy’s going to take care of you forever, sweetheart. Nobody will ever take Daddy’s little boy away again. I promise.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead. “My little baby is going to stay right here where he’s nice and safe.” 

Stiles coos happily and burrows into Daddy’s arms. Everything’s all right now. Daddy is here and Stiles is safe. He doesn’t have to think any more bad thoughts. “Want to go home now, Daddy,” he whispers. 

Daddy rubs his back. “Of course, baby. Daddy’s going to take you home and make some yummy hot chocolate for your bottle. Then we’ll have a warm bath and lotion for your boo-boos before bedtime. Sound good?” 

“Uh-huh.” Stiles shuts his eyes. The woods are scary, he doesn’t want to see them. He just wants to feel Daddy holding him close. 

Daddy walks, holding Stiles tightly so he won’t be jostled. There’s a hooting sound and Stiles whimpers, too scared to imagine what might be out there. “It’s okay,” Daddy croons to him. “There’s nothing out here that will hurt little Stiles.” 

“Don’t like the woods,” Stiles sniffles. 

“The woods are safe when you’re with Daddy. You know, there’s _magic_ in the woods. Daddy will show you.” Derek turns. As they walk Stiles starts to hear a hum, but a funny hum, like it’s coming from inside of him. “Look,” Daddy says, gently turning his chin. “See, sweetheart? What’s that?” 

Stiles blinks and sees a tree that’s _glowing_ , it’s all green and he can tell it’s where the hum is coming from. 

“That’s called a Nemeton, sweetheart. It’s a magic tree. There’s one in every secret community where werewolves live, because it controls the same magic that’s inside of us. It can do amazing magic things like you wouldn’t believe. You can touch it.” Daddy lets Stiles reach out and put his hand against the trunk. It thrums against his skin. “See? It knows you now. It knows you’re my baby boy and you belong here. You’re family, and the Nemeton knows family is the most important thing. Whenever you’re in the woods with Daddy, the Nemeton will keep you safe.” 

Stiles stares in wide-eyed wonderment at the tree. Real magic! Before Daddy he hadn’t even known werewolves or magic was real. “Thank you, Daddy,” he whispers, voice trembling. “Thank you for the magic.” 

Daddy chuckles at him and kisses his cheek. “My poor baby, you’re so cold you’re shaking. And your diaper is wet, isn’t it? Let’s get you home and changed.” 

Stiles nods and closes his eyes as they walk away from the Nemeton. Then his eyes fly open. He forgot to tell Daddy about Uncle Peter! “Daddy, Uncle Peter is hurt!” 

“It’s okay, Daddy found him. He’ll be fine. As long as he’s out of the house when I’m home.” Daddy’s voice gets kind of low at that part, like a growl. 

“Why’s he have to be out of the house?” 

“Daddy’s very angry with Uncle Peter. He almost got you hurt.” 

“But Daddy, he tried to save me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. He betrayed me in the worst way. He wanted us both dead. Before he could do it he might have had a change of heart, but that doesn’t matter.” 

Stiles’ lip trembles. He doesn’t like to think of Daddy being angry at Uncle Peter because of him. “We can forgive him?” 

“No, pup. We don’t have to forgive him.” 

He feels like he might cry. Uncle Peter had been okay, and Stiles had liked his doggie. “I forgave you for stealing me.” 

Daddy looks down at him seriously. “But taking you wasn’t wrong, sweetheart. You just didn’t understand why I had to do it before because you were so little. It’s not like Uncle Peter, who did something bad. It’s important that you understand Daddy wasn’t bad for bringing you here, so you don’t have to forgive me.” 

Stiles frowns and thinks about it. He’d thought it was wrong of Daddy to take him for a long time, that’s why he’d been so angry and upset. But now he knows he’s supposed to be Daddy’s little boy, so Daddy must be right. Stiles had just been confused before and hadn’t known right from wrong, like Daddy used to say. It makes him feel so much better to realize that Daddy hadn’t done anything bad and Stiles doesn’t have to be confused, and he smiles, snuggling against Daddy’s chest. “I understand, Daddy!” 

“That’s my good boy.” Daddy kisses him. 

“But we can still forgive Uncle Peter, because he’s our family. And family is the most important thing, right, Daddy?” 

Daddy’s lips do a funny thing, like they’re trying to smile but he doesn’t want them to. “You’re a smart little one, aren’t you? Using Daddy’s words against him like that. We’ll see, pumpkin. Daddy’s very angry right now but maybe later I’ll be ready to forgive him.” 

That’s good enough right now. Stiles is tired and he closes his eyes again, focusing only on the sound of Daddy’s heart as Daddy carries him home. 

X 

Derek is almost afraid to believe that Stiles has really, fully regressed. He knows trauma can trigger it, but he still half-expects Stiles to suddenly open his eyes and start fighting again. 

He doesn’t, though, he just stays nestles in Derek’s embrace, eyes closed happily. A perfect little baby boy. 

Derek can’t wait for everything they’ll do now that Stiles is firmly in his headspace. Sure, it had been fun to fight for control, knowing all along that eventually he would win, but now he just gets this little baby to adore him for the rest of their lives. They can go on trips together, and Stiles can be integrated further into their community. He’s going to be absolutely perfect. 

When they reach home Peter is still there, slumped in the corner. His dog is licking his face and Peter pets him, skin grey with pain. He’s healing well, but a wound like that must hurt like a bitch to knit closed. Good. “You got blood on my carpet,” Derek says coldly. 

Peter’s eyes flutter open. “You found him. That’s a relief.” 

“Lucky for you that I did.” 

“I know, Derek. I know.” Peter grimaces and tries to stand. “Would you like to finish me off? I ask only that you make it quick.” 

“I’m holding my baby, Peter, you really think I’m going to kill you?” Derek glances down at Stiles’ scared face and wide eyes. The poor little thing has been through enough tonight. “You’re no longer my second. That’s Scott’s role now. You’re nothing more than a beta.” 

“I’m still in the pack?” 

“Nobody else would take you, and I’d rather you not go Omega. But you’re on probation, Peter. I highly encourage you to watch your step, especially around Stiles.” 

“I will. I’m sorry, Derek. Truly.” 

“Now get out. I need to take care of him.” 

Peter moves as quickly as his wound allows, the dog right behind him. Derek waits until the door closes before smoothing back Stiles’ hair. “I’ll forgive him,” he says in answer to the unspoken question. “But not today, sweetheart. Today I just want to take care of my little boy.” 

He takes Stiles to the kitchen and starts to make hot chocolate, a special treat for the baby. As he pulls the milk from the fridge he decides to test just how deep in headspace Stiles is. “Do you know what animal gives us milk?” he asks teasingly as the door shuts. He’s read to Stiles from a barnyard book several times, one Stiles has resisted more than his other stories because of how babyish it is. 

Stiles looks at the milk. His brow furrows for the briefest of seconds before it smooths out and he smiles. “Cow?” 

“That’s right! And what does the cow say?” 

Stiles’ smile becomes a full-fledged beam. “Moo!” 

“That’s right! What a smart boy!” Derek finishes the hot chocolate and gives the bottle to Stiles to suck as he takes off Stiles’ dirty onesie and diaper. Stiles is making happy little sounds as he drinks and Derek plants kisses all over his belly, so in love with him. He knew he just had to wait and eventually this perfect little prince would be all his. “How I love my little boy,” he croons before carrying Stiles upstairs for his bath. 

X 

Stiles isn’t put into his baby bath tonight, but instead sits into the regular tub. Daddy makes the water nice and warm and washes him all over, the washcloth soft and good-smelling as it passes over his tummy and thighs. “My pee-pee needs a bath too, Daddy,” he reminds Daddy through a yawn. 

Daddy chuckles. “I know, sweetheart, I’ll get there in a minute.” 

“Can you give my pee-pee nice touches, Daddy?” 

“No, not tonight. You’re too tired.” 

Stiles thinks about pouting, but Daddy knows best. 

Daddy puts a hand over Stiles’ eyes as he washes Stiles hair. His hand is firm and so big that Stiles doesn’t get any suds in his eyes. Daddy lifts him from the bath and wraps him in a fluffy towel, drying him off until Stiles feels drowsy and warm. He doesn’t want to fall asleep before his bedtime story so he forces himself to stay awake as Daddy carries him to the nursery. 

He has lots of boo-boos that need tending and Daddy takes care of each one, cleaning them with special lotion until they’re all better. Then Daddy puts lotion all over him, kissing his soft little feet and fingers as he goes. His jammies feel so good after the lotion that he coos again and Daddy puts a kiss right on his belly. “Such a perfect baby boy,” he whispers and Stiles kicks his legs happily. He is a perfect baby boy! He’s Daddy’s perfect baby boy, that’s the very best thing to be. 

After he’s made ready for bedtime Daddy has a nice story for him about a wolf daddy and his pup. As he reads Stiles starts to worry. He remembers back before he was Daddy’s little boy, when a woman told him that the reason he wasn’t getting adopted was because he just kept getting older and people only wanted babies. What will happen when he isn’t a baby anymore, when he’s too old to be Daddy’s little prince? Will Daddy make him go away? 

When the story ends he looks up at Daddy nervously. “Daddy’s my daddy forever?” he whispers, rubbing his cheek against Daddy’s chest because he wants to be cuddled. 

Daddy smiles at him and cuddles him tight. “Forever and ever.” 

“Even in ten years?” 

“Even in fifty years, sweetheart. Werewolves don’t age like humans do. Daddy might get some wrinkles and grey hair, but I’ll always be strong enough to carry you around and take care of you. And as for _you_ — do you remember the nice tree we met tonight, the Nemeton? Mommies and Daddies use the Nemeton’s magic to keep their little boys and girls looking the same way they did when they were adopted. So all we have to do is visit the Nemeton once a year, on your birthday, and take some of its magic, and your insides will get older but your outsides will stay looking just like this! So my little boy doesn’t ever have to worry about being too old for Daddy, my beautiful boy will always be just perfect.” 

Stiles can’t believe it, that’s more than he could have dreamed of. He hugs Daddy tightly, then realizes he’s been so silly, he forgot to say the most important thing! “I love you, Daddy,” he whispers. 

Daddy kisses him and rocks the chair back and forth. His smile is the best thing Stiles has ever seen. “Daddy loves you too, my baby boy. Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter planned to be some ridiculously long happy baby Stiles and his Daddy epilogue, so feel free to toss out anything you might want to see here or on Tumblr!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who prompted for this chapter! There were so many that I couldn't use them all, so I'm sorry if yours isn't here, but since it seems like people want more in this verse I'm going to start a collection of Teen Wolf Infantilism one-shots. Can be Daddy's Baby Boy, any of the pairings in this universe, any type of infantlism, any pairing, etc. Feel free to prompt.  
> And thank you all for reading and supporting! So many of these stories end up unfinished because people respond to it with hostility, and I figured this would happen to this story here, but you were all so wonderful. THANK YOU!

**One Year Later**

Stiles’ mermaids are launching an offensive against Uncle Peter’s pirates. Scott is helping him, Scott is good at helping when Stiles is in charge. “We gotta get the captain overboard,” Stiles whispers to him. 

“I heard that,” Uncle Peter says. “Captain Bonetrotter is staying right where he is. He just took command of the ship, he’s not losing it now.” 

“Not if he hears the siren song,” Scott says, swimming Illyria up to Uncle Peter’s ship. She’s the prettiest mermaid, her song makes men jump overboard. 

“Joke’s on you, Captain Bonetrotter put cotton in his ears. He learned from his predecessor’s mistake.” Uncle Peter spares a regretful look to the drowned body of Captain Snaggletooth, who perished in yesterday’s fight. 

Stiles frowns at the ship. Captain Bonetrotter is poised right at the edge near the plank. He takes Rupert, the strongest mermaid, and rams the ship with him so it rocks. Bonetrotter trembles and Peter makes a frantic grab for him, but it’s too late. The pirate tumbles off the ship to the carpet. Stiles crows with delight and covers the captain with his mermaid, dragging him down to his watery grave. 

“Damn it,” Uncle Peter sighs. “Now who’s supposed to be captain? Joanie the scullery maid? She’s useless.” 

“Surrender your ship to us,” Scott says. 

“But I’ve got all the king’s treasure on board!” Uncle Peter pauses, lifting his head up at the same time his dog Phoenix does the same thing across the room. He looks at Stiles and grins. “Guess who’s here?” 

Stiles squeals happily, raising his arms so someone will pick him up. Uncle Peter jumps to his feet and hoists Stiles into his arms, taking him to the front door just as it opens. “Where’s my baby?” Daddy calls as he steps inside. 

“Daddy!” Stiles reaches for him and Uncle Peter passes him over. Daddy has been gone for _three whole days_ , that’s practically forever. “I missed you, Daddy!” 

“I missed you too, pup.” Daddy gives him big kisses and lets Stiles rub his cheek against Daddy’s stubble. “Did you have fun with Uncle Peter and Scott?” 

“Uh-huh! We did pirates and Uncle Peter blew up the pool in the backyard for my mermaids! And Uncle Peter put on movies, one was scary but I didn’t have a nightmare like Aunt Erica said, and Uncle Peter made s’mores in the oven while we watched them, he melted marshmallows and chocolate chips in a dish and we ate it with graham crackers!” 

Daddy chokes. “You did _what?_ ” 

Behind him, Uncle Peter makes a face at Stiles and pretends to zip his lips. Oh yeah, that was supposed to be their secret. Oops. 

“It was yummy, Daddy,” Stiles says innocently. 

“I’ll bet it gave you a tummyache, didn’t it?” 

“Uh-huh, but Uncle Peter gave me a magic touch and it went away.” 

“Of course he did.” Daddy gives Uncle Peter a half-exasperated, half-fond look. Daddy and Uncle Peter are friends again, which is good, because Uncle Peter is the best babysitter. He always brings his doggie and he lets Stiles watch grown-up TV. “Is your tummy all better now?” 

“Uh-huh!” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. I better check.” Daddy flips him upside down so his head is pointed towards the floor, it makes him shriek. His shirt falls to expose his tummy and Daddy blows a raspberry on it and tickles it until Stiles can’t breathe for laughing. “I think your tummy is saying it needs lots of fruits and veggies to make up for all that sugar.” 

Peter huffs. “I fed him spinach and carrots today with a protein-boost bottle, Derek, I’m not incompetent.” 

“No dessert,” Stiles says regretfully. 

“You’ve had enough dessert for a week, baby boy. Now, I think you need your bath don’t you? Say bye-bye to Uncle Peter and Scott.” 

“Bye-bye!” Stiles reaches out so they’ll both give him kisses. Daddy puts him down so Phoenix can lick his face, that’s a doggie bye-bye. After they’re gone Daddy picks him up and carries him to the stairs, making a face at the mess in the living room. “You had lots and lots of fun, didn’t you?” 

“Uh-huh, Daddy, but I still missed you. Don’t go away again, okay?” 

Daddy grins at him. “But when Daddy goes away he always brings you back presents.” 

Stiles’ eyes light up, he forgot he’d be getting a present. “Where, Daddy?” 

“In my bag.” Daddy pulls it out. It’s a clear stone, smooth when he puts it into Stiles’ hands. “See, all you do is press this button here, and…” the stone glows green and Stiles gasps. 

“Like my tree!” 

“Yes, just like the Nemeton. And then it turns different colors, see?” The stone turns from green to blue to purple to red. “Like a little nightlight you can hold in your hands.” 

“I love it, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Stiles kisses Daddy’s cheek. He loves new presents, but most of all he loves Daddy being home. 

Daddy makes him a bath and gives him his duckies to play with, they’re decorated to look like the Avengers. “Daddy, is Captain America better than Iron Man?” 

“No.” 

“Is Hulk?” 

“Iron Man is the best because he’s the smartest, pup, and smarts are what you need to be a leader. Hulk is the strongest, and Captain America is…well, most moralistic, I guess, that means he cares about right and wrong.” 

“Are you the smartest of the pack, Daddy?” 

Daddy laughs. “Yeah, sweetheart, I am. _And_ I’m the strongest. Scotty’s the Captain America of the group, though.” 

“Who’m I, Daddy?” 

“Hmm, well, you can be Black Widow, because she’s Daddy’s favorite.” 

“Is Uncle Peter Loki?” 

“Absolutely.” Daddy lifts Stiles out of the bath and wraps him in a towel. Stiles makes a happy sound, he loves being wrapped up all fluffy, and Daddy smiles down at him. “I changed my mind, pup. You’re Iron Man’s electromagnet, because you keep Daddy going and my heart would be broken without you.” He kisses Stiles’ belly and takes him to the nursery. 

Stiles lays on his changing table sucking his thumb as Daddy puts on his lotion, cooing happily as Daddy rubs it into the soles of his feet. Daddy wiggles his toes. “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home…” 

“Wee-wee-wee!” Stiles shouts along when Daddy gets to the littlest piggy, that’s his favorite part. Daddy grins at him. 

“You know, I’m a very hungry wolf tonight, I think I have to eat these little piggies up.” Daddy munches on his toes, making Stiles shriek. “Nom nom nom. Mm, these little piggies are so yummy, Daddy wants more.” He switches feet. “Ooh, five more little piggies for Daddy!” 

“No, Daddy!” Stiles keeps giggling as Daddy finishes munching. 

“That was delicious! Thank you for the snack, baby boy.” Daddy rubs some more lotion into his feet and up into his thighs. Whenever Daddy touches near his privates Stiles starts to get excited and he wriggles against the changing table. 

“Daddy, can I play with Huggie Bear?” 

“Did Huggie Bear come out to play while I was gone?” 

Stiles shakes his head. Huggie Bear is only allowed to play when Daddy is here, that’s a very important rule. “Please, Daddy?” 

Daddy can see that he’s already hard just thinking about playing with Huggie Bear and he chuckles. “Okay, pup. I’ll go get him.” 

Huggie Bear stays on a high shelf so only Daddy can reach him. He’s a big, furry bear who helps make Stiles feel good. There’s a hole in his belly for Stiles’ pee-pee that’s all soft inside, and Daddy can press a button that makes Huggie Bear vibrate. Stiles reaches up and Daddy lets him hug the bear. The fur feels so good against his privates. 

Huggie Bear starts to vibrate and Stiles sighs happily. Sometimes he just likes to rub his pee-pee against the fur and not even put in inside Huggie Bear’s hole, so he does that tonight, getting the bear’s fur nice and wet. “Such a good boy,” Daddy says fondly, brushing his hair away from his face. “Is Huggie Bear able to make my little baby feel good tonight by himself, or does he need Daddy’s help?” 

“Help, Daddy, please.” Stiles moans as Daddy starts to stroke him. His hand is warm and firm, followed by Huggie Bear’s soft fur. “I think we’re making the little boy feel _very_ good,” Daddy says to Huggie Bear. “We like to make our sweet boy feel good, don’t we? Because he’s such a perfect little prince, he deserves to have nice touches.” 

When Daddy helps Stiles always feels good really fast and he comes quickly. Huggie Bear stops vibrating, his job is over. “There we go,” Daddy says, putting Huggie Bear aside so he can be washed. “All better?” 

“Uh-huh. ‘M sticky now, Daddy.” 

Daddy laughs. “Yes, you are, look at my messy little boy. Let’s clean you up.” 

He always feels sleepy after playing with Huggie Bear but not so sleepy that he doesn’t want his bedtime story. Bedtime stories are his very favorite part of the day because he gets to cuddle with Daddy in the rocking chair and feel the rumbles in his chest while he talks. After Daddy has been away he likes to pick stories about daddies and their pups to remind Stiles how much Daddy loves him even when they’re not together. 

Tonight’s story is about a daddy wolf who goes to the moon with his pup, they travel to all the different stars and come home just in time for the pup’s bedtime. Stiles likes the idea of going to the moon with Daddy. They’ve gone up in Daddy’s airplane together. Stiles was scared at first but Daddy cuddled him and talked about how the last time they were in the plane together Stiles was such a tiny baby that he probably doesn’t even remember it. It’s true, he doesn’t. The times before Daddy and the earliest days with him are all blurry now. He likes it that way. 

After his story Daddy rocks him in the chair. “My beautiful little baby,” he whispers as Stiles’ eyes flutter shut. Daddy always says the nicest things that make Stiles feel all warm inside. He’s the best Daddy in the whole wide world. “I love my beautiful little baby more than anything else. I’ll love him forever and ever and ever.” 

Stiles smiles and closes his eyes. He dreams of the adventures he’ll have forever and ever and ever with his Daddy. 

X 

The next morning Stiles wakes up early, before Daddy comes to get him. He yawns and stretches, feeling very well-rested. He can hear footsteps getting louder as they approach the nursery, and he decides to play a trick on Daddy. He curls up like he’s sleeping and makes pretend snores. 

Daddy comes in and stands over his crib. “Oh, no,” he says out loud. “My little boy is still so sleepy. What can I do to wake him up?” 

Stiles giggles through his snores, but Daddy doesn’t notice. “Hmm. Should I wake him up with a kiss? Or maybe…maybe I should wake him up with _tickles!_ ” He reaches in and starts to tickle Stiles’ tummy. Stiles squeals, twisting and wriggling. 

“Daddy, I’m awake! I’m awake!” 

“Oh, so you are! I didn’t notice.” Daddy lifts him out of the crib. “Good morning, pumpkin. Are you ready for your big day?” 

Stiles claps his hands with excitement. Today is going to be a very special day. A few months ago Daddy took him to daycare so he could spend more time with other babies. Danny and Jackson had been there too, so it was fun, and the lady who ran the daycare started teaching them a play that they could put on for all the mommies and daddies. Stiles goes to daycare every Tuesday so he can learn his part and today it’s finally showtime. 

“Are all my friends coming, Daddy?” 

“They are! Kira and Scott, and Erica and Boyd, and Liam and Isaac and Uncle Peter, and Aidan and Ethan, and Carol and Mark are coming with baby Heather.” 

Stiles wrinkles his nose, he isn’t sure he likes Heather very much. After Daddy killed Theo Heather and Donovan’s Mommy didn’t want them anymore. Donovan has been bouncing around with a few different families, trying to find the right fit, and Carol and Mark, who were already the Mommy and Daddy to Stiles’ friend Johnnie, took in Heather. She can sit up and babble now but she’s still too little to play, and sometimes Stiles is jealous of how much attention she gets. 

Soon he might be a little baby like her, he remembers. Daddy has been talking for a while about Stiles going back to the doctor to get some shots so he would be like a tiny little baby. Stiles has been too scared and says no, no, _no_ whenever Daddy brings it up, and Daddy always says okay, they would talk about it later. Stiles has been thinking about how nice it would be to not have to do _any_ big things. He doesn’t even like walking or feeding himself because it’s nicer when Daddy does those things for him. 

He’d seen Jackson when he was very little and it was nice, the grown-ups all held him and sang to him and let him fall asleep in their arms. Stiles started thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And sometimes he gets nervous that Daddy might want to adopt another baby, one who can be that little forever, and he doesn’t want Daddy to love anyone but him. 

He hasn’t said anything to Daddy yet because he’s not sure. Maybe in a little while he’ll decide. 

Daddy changes him and puts him into a onesie, even though Stiles wants to put on his costume. “You don’t want it to get dirty,” Daddy reminds him when he sees Stiles’ pout. 

It’s hard to wait. He plays with his toys and practices his lines in his playpen until Daddy finally says they can go. He puts on Stiles’ costume, baggy white pants and a yellow blouse, but he can’t put on his cape until later. 

Danny and Jackson are already at the daycare and Stiles wriggles so Daddy will put him down and he can run to them. The play the daycare is doing has lots of stories all together, and since Danny and Jackson and Stiles are best friends they’re all in the same story, along with their friend Mina. They practice in the backstage room until Miss Yuki tells them it’s time to start. 

Their story is Little Red Riding Hood. Stiles puts on his hood and waits until it’s time for him to go out. There are lots and lots of werewolves watching them, and Daddy is in the front row with his camera. 

Jackson is the wolf who helps Little Red pick flowers for his granny, and Danny is the mean huntsman who tries to trick the wolf into eating Little Red’s granny so the huntsman can chop him up. The wolf is too smart for him and refuses to eat the granny, but the huntsman is so evil that he finds out and chops the granny up to blame it on the wolf. The crowd boos him. 

Little Red comes to the granny’s house to give her flowers and treats. The wolf doesn’t want Little Red to know what the bad huntsman did to her granny so he hops in bed and puts on the granny’s bonnet. Little Red is confused by how her granny is acting. “Granny, what a deep voice you have!" Stiles says. 

Jackson stares at him from under the covers with his eyes wide, he’s forgotten his lines. Stiles whispers to him: “ _The better…_ ” 

The audience titters and Jackson’s worried expression smooths out. "The better to greet you with!" 

"Granny, what big eyes you have!" 

"The better to see you with!” 

"Granny, what big hands you have!" 

"The better to hug you with!” Jackson sits up so he can hug Stiles and Stiles hugs him back before jumping away. 

“Granny, what soft fur you have!” 

“The better to keep you warm in the winter, my dear!” 

Stiles can hear Daddy laughing from the audience and it makes his stomach feel all warm. 

The huntsman charges in and tries to chop up Little Red, Stiles does a big scream like Miss Yuki taught him and runs behind the wolf for safety. The wolf gobbles the huntsman up and decides the human world isn’t safe for Little Red anymore, so he takes off the Granny’s clothes and carries Little Red away to somewhere better. The audience claps as they go off stage. 

After all the stories are done thy run back out and take a big bow. Stiles can see Daddy standing up and whooping. When it’s over he runs to Daddy and Daddy picks him up, swinging him through the air. 

“Daddy, did you see me?” 

“I saw you, pup! You were wonderful!” Daddy gives him smooches all over his cheeks. “You’re the cutest Little Red Riding Hood I’ve ever seen.” 

“I didn’t forget any of my lines!” 

“I know, I was so proud of you.” Daddy flips his hood playfully over his eyes. “Look at my Little Red.” 

Stiles loves his cape. “Daddy, do a growl.” 

Daddy does and Stiles squeals happily. “Can we play Little Red at home, Daddy? Please, please, please?” 

“Sure, pup, but you’re going to have to teach me my lines. Let’s see what I remember…what big eyes you have?” 

“No, Daddy, that’s my line!” 

“Hmm. Then do I say…what a cute _tummy_ you have?” Daddy flips him over and tickles him. While he’s down there he sees Aunt Erica and Uncle Boyd. He reaches for them as Daddy flips him back up. “Did you see me?” 

“You were awesome, buddy!” Uncle Boyd is grinning at him, he doesn’t smile a lot so it makes Stiles feel really good. 

Aunt Kira brought him a flower and gives him a big hug to tell him how good he did, and then Uncle Peter wants to cuddle him, and he gets passed around like hot potato to all of the pack. He’s having fun until he looks back to see where Daddy is and sees that Daddy is holding Heather. He’s smiling at her and she’s trying to pat his nose, wearing her happy baby grin. 

“She’s just thriving,” Carol is telling him. “We’re hoping to have her first real word by the end of the month, but she’s very talkative already.” 

Heather proves it by babbling at Daddy, who laughs, looking at her with a soft expression on his face. Stiles hears her repeating “Da-da-da-da-da,” as though she’s trying to call him “Daddy,” and he’s suddenly so jealous he can’t stand it. He wriggles to be put down and runs to Daddy, gripping him around the waist. He glares at Heather. “ _My_ daddy,” he says loudly, holding on to Derek almost protectively. 

Heather isn’t used to being yelled at and she looks shocked for a moment before her face crumples and she starts to wail. Daddy tries to hush her, too distracted to look at Stiles, and Stiles feels his own eyes fill with tears. Daddy’s still holding her! He’s not even picking Stiles up, his arms are full with the dumb baby! “Mine!” he shouts before burying his face in Daddy’s chest and starting to cry. 

Daddy gives Heather back to her Mommy and picks Stiles up, carrying him quickly to the Quiet Room, the daycare room where babies go when they need to be alone or they’re in time-out. He shuts the door tightly and sits with Stiles on a beanbag, reaching into the baby bag and pulling out Sheriff for Stiles to cuddle. 

Stiles can’t stop crying as he holds on to the dog tightly. It’s not fair, he was having such a good day and then stupid Heather had to ruin it. Now Daddy will want to adopt _her_ , maybe he’ll trade with Carol and give her Stiles so he can take the baby. 

All because she’s little, littler than Stiles. Stiles is too much of a big boy and Daddy doesn’t want him anymore. 

Daddy hushes him, holding him tightly. “It’s all right,” he says softly. “Don’t cry, sweet boy, Daddy hates when his little prince is upset. Sh, sh. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.” He waits, but Stiles just keeps crying. “Is it because Daddy was holding the baby? You thought Daddy was ignoring you?” 

Hearing it put like that is embarrassing, but that _had_ been how he felt. He nods through his tears. “D-daddy wants another baby.” 

“No I don’t, sweetheart. What gave you that idea?” 

“You s-said you wanted me to be a little baby again and I said n-no and now you want Heather instead of me!” It ends on a wail and Daddy pulls a tissue from the baby bag, helping Stiles blow his nose in it. 

“Baby boy, you need to calm down for me, all right? Now, I don’t want _any_ baby besides my Stiles. You’re Daddy’s favorite person on earth, you know that. And Daddy would never, ever, ever give you to another family. Not in a million years.” Daddy uses his thumbs to wipe away Stiles’ tears. “Even though I think you should regress down for a little while, I love you just as you are. I love your silly questions and the wonderful stories you tell me. But babies like you can start to get confused and think they’re big boys. Giving you special shots to make you feel very tiny will remind you that you’re a little boy who belongs right here with Daddy. You’ll still be Daddy’s perfect little prince, just a little bit younger. It would be for your own good, not because Daddy wants you to be any different, all right?” 

There are too many thoughts in Stiles’ head. “Promise?” 

“Swear. And if you’re not ready, you’re not ready. All Daddy wants is for his baby to be happy.” 

Stiles sniffles. He’s happy right now, isn’t he? Sure, sometimes he gets confused, like when Daddy won’t let him stay up late or watch grown-up TV and he thinks that he should get to make his own decisions, but he just ignores the bad thoughts and they go away on their own. “Wh-what if I can’t get big again?” 

“That won’t happen, pumpkin. It would just be for a few weeks. You saw how it was for Jackson. It’s not a punishment or because I want you to change, it’s just to help you. After that you would know you can always trust Daddy and Daddy will always take care of you.” 

Daddy is rubbing a circle on his back, that always makes him feel better. He can feel himself relaxing. “Can I get big again if I don’t like it?” 

“Of course you can. I’ll know how you feel, you’ll still be able to communicate with me. If it isn’t good for you, I’ll take you right back to the doctor and he’ll make you big again.” Derek rocks him gently. “But sweetheart, if you don’t want to, that’s all right too. Please don’t say yes just because you think I’ll be angry otherwise. I just want what’s best for you.” 

Stiles nods and sniffles one more time. He can feel the last sobs in his chest and he hiccups them out against Daddy’s shirt. He thinks how nice it would be if Daddy could just wrap him up and carry him back home without him having to see or talk to anyone. “I’m okay now, Daddy,” he whispers. 

“No, you need a few more cuddles.” Daddy squeezes him tight, brushing away his last few tears. He waits until Stiles’ breath is totally back to normal. “Now tell me,” he murmurs. “Who loves you more than anyone else in the world?” 

Stiles smiles with his eyes closed. He knows this now, this is what he and Daddy say whenever Stiles gets upset. “Daddy.” 

“And why does Daddy love his little Stiles?” 

“Because Stiles is Daddy’s family, his one and only little prince.” Stiles feels much better now. He snuggles up against Daddy as Daddy kisses his wet cheeks. 

**Three Months Later**

Stiles is sleepy. He’s sleepy a lot ever since he got his shots. Because of how little he is now Daddy has to give him lots of special formula to keep him healthy, so he can only sleep for a few hours at a time before he has to have a bottle. 

Despite his sleepiness, he feels wonderful. Daddy keeps him swaddled tightly, and the bottles make him feel floaty, so all he knows is warmth and gentle touches and Daddy’s soft voice. He’s too little to play with his toys, but that’s all right. Daddy still reads him stories or helps him to shake his rattles. Sometimes he’s even put down on his play mat. He can’t raise his hands to bat at the toys, but Daddy helps him, and it’s nice to look at the colors. 

He doesn’t want to stay like this _forever_ , because he still has lots of playing to do and he misses Danny and Jackson. But it’s nice for right now. He loves being taken care of and knowing that Daddy will take care of his every need, because that’s how much Daddy loves him. 

He’d been so silly to be worried. Of course Daddy knew best. 

X 

Even though Stiles is too little now to read along and ask questions like he used to, Derek likes to read him a story before bed. He has to balance the baby and the book carefully, since Stiles can’t support his own neck, but Stiles has been like this for almost a month and Derek is an expert now. 

Stiles is so young that he isn’t sleeping in the nursery anymore. Instead Derek has set up a bassinet in his bedroom. He likes having the baby close by, where he can listen to the baby’s heartbeat as he falls asleep. 

He’s woken up in the mornings by the baby crying to alert Derek to a mess in his diaper or a hungry belly. Crying is his chief way to communicate now, but he’s liberal with his smiles too, beaming happily at Derek to let him know that his goofy little chatterbox is still in there. Derek misses all the questions and happy protestations of love, so he’s already starting to let the baby age up. But God, Stiles is cute like this. The Society says nothing solidifies a bond like having a baby aged down as far as they can go, so Derek has no regrets whatsoever. 

Right now he has the baby on his playmat, _Baby Einstein_ on the TV. Stiles is staring at it in fascination. “Ah-na-na-na,” he babbles at the screen. 

Derek smiles and picks him up, putting him on his stomach for some tummy time. “What about da-da? Can you say da-da?” 

“Ah-ba-ba!” Stiles blows a spit bubble and shrieks with laughter. Derek laughs too, the baby’s laughter is always contagious. He holds up a toy so the baby will strain his neck. 

After Stiles’ lunchtime bottle Derek puts him in bassinet in the office so he can keep an eye on the baby as he works. Stiles is napping for a while, then wakes up and wants his Daddy’s attention. Derek cuddles him on his lap as he works, talking to the baby as he does so. He isn’t sure if Stiles can even understand him now, but he always seems happy when he hears Derek’s voice. 

Stiles is being very vocal today, babbling away experimentally. Derek finds out why when he wakes the baby up after his afternoon nap. Stiles blinks sweetly at him, a smile slowly stealing across his face. “Dada,” he coos, raising his arms. 

Derek’s heart melts. “That’s right, baby boy! Dada’s here.” He lifts Stiles out and cuddles him. “My smart little prince.” 

“Dada,” Stiles says again, snuffling happily against Derek’s chest. 

Derek switches out formula later, giving him a blend to support brain activity and muscle control. He can tell the difference almost immediately. Stiles keeps babbling, pointing to things and trying to find the names for them. By bedtime he’s got dada, doggie, kiss, and moo, which he uses for milk. When Derek reads him his bedtime story he smacks his hand against the page, looking up at Derek eagerly so Derek will tell him what he’s looking at. “That’s a duckie,” Derek tells him, and Stiles gives him a drooly grin. “’Uckie,” he repeats before trying to turn the page for Derek. 

The baby is so excited he fights going to sleep, clutching Derek’s shirt when Derek tries to lower him into the bassinet. Derek laughs and untangles his fingers gently. “You have to go beddy-bye, little prince, Daddy wants you to have lots of sweet dreams.” 

Stiles goes to bed, but wakes Derek up in the middle of the night with happy babbling. “What are you doing?” Derek yawns fondly as he lifts the baby into his arms. 

“Uckie, Dada, uckie!” 

“You want the duckie story again?” Derek switches on the light and reads it to him patiently. Stiles tries to repeat the words, and it’s kind of amazing to see his passion for words is still going strong. Derek wants to encourage it, so every time Stiles gets a new word Derek kisses the side of his head and praises him for being so smart. 

The pack comes over for a meeting and delights in playing with the energetic baby. “You can say ‘Erica,’ can’t you, buddy?” Erica coos to him. “I know you were going to say ‘Daddy’ first, that wasn’t even a question, but you can say my name before anyone else’s, right?” 

Stiles just drools at her before spotting Peter and stretching out his arms. “Peetah!” 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Erica gripes. “You didn’t even _try_ to say Erica.” 

“I’m his favorite, get over it.” Peter takes him and bounces him on his lap. Conversation turns to something else, but Derek has an ear out to Stiles’ heartbeat, so he hears Peter whisper, “You’re my favorite too, don’t tell anyone.” 

Derek hides his smile. At first he’d thought Peter’s affection for the baby was just an act to get back into Derek’s good graces, but it had become clear that Peter couldn’t help but love the little boy, enchanted by Stiles’ easy affection and eager questions. Maybe he reminds Peter of the young Hale children who were killed in the fire, the last people to love Peter unconditionally. Derek doesn’t know, but he’s happy to see it. 

In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Peter ends up adopting a baby of his own someday. He’s not going to push, but his fingers are crossed. 

Stiles ends up falling asleep in Peter’s arms and doesn’t wake up until Derek is carrying him upstairs after the pack meeting. When Derek walks into the bedroom Stiles gurgles and points to one of the pictures on Derek’s nightstand. Derek smiles and picks it up. 

“Yes, that’s you and Daddy.” He sits on his bed with the baby and the picture, admiring them both. The picture was taken on Stiles’ first birthday. He’s in Derek’s lap, beaming, legs blurry as though he was swinging them happily when the picture was taken. Derek loves this picture. “Look at what a beautiful boy you are. See how happy you look? That’s because you love Daddy very much, just as much as Daddy loves you.” 

It’s important to remind him of that now, while his brain is working so quickly to remember his words. If it’s taught to him like it’s a basic fact he’ll never question it again. 

Stiles pats the picture in satisfaction. “Story,” he demands, the word garbled but distinct. 

“Story!” Derek repeats. “Such a smart boy. Of course you get a story. But first you need a bottle.” 

Stiles is always content to be fed and he drinks slowly, head resting against Derek’s shoulder. Derek can’t stop smiling down at him and making little nonsense sounds. He’s so perfect. He’s just the way he should have been when Derek first brought him home, before he’d earned any big-boy privileges. He picks up the baby’s hand, soft from lotion and the mittens he’s been wearing almost constantly for the past month, and presses kisses into the palm, making the baby squeal. “Dada,” Stiles coos in his sweet, high voice, nuzzling against Derek’s chest. “Da-da-da-dada.” 

**Two Months Later**

After Stiles grows back up into a big boy things are a little bit different. He can’t remember how to walk anymore, and Daddy doesn’t teach him again, so he’s just carried or crawls wherever he wants to go. He doesn’t mind. He likes to be reminded of how strong Daddy and his friends are, so they can carry him all over. 

Soon it’s time for his second birthday. He can’t wait. Daddy plans for it to be at the local pool, and then they’re going to have a picnic, and then home for presents, and then they’ll go visit the Nemeton at night. He has new swim trunks that look like Spiderman and water wings to match, and Daddy says all his mermaids can come and the pirate ship he got for his last Christmas. 

All of the pack comes, and Danny and Jackson, and baby Heather. Even Donovan comes with his new Mommy, she wants him to socialize with more kids. Stiles doesn’t like that very much but when he whines Daddy gives him a stern look. “You be nice to him, little boy. He’s had a hard time.” 

Stiles pouts. Daddy almost never scolds him and he doesn’t want to be yelled at again so he doesn’t say another word about Donovan. But as Daddy is packing up his mermaids to go to the party Stiles decides that only Danny, Jackson, and the pack are allowed to play with them, not Donovan. 

As it turns out Donovan doesn’t even get in the water, he just sits in a chair and scowls. His Mommy looks tired. “I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Stiles hears her saying to Kira. “I feel bad, because he’s almost out of options, but nothing I do helps him. I’ve tried a full regression twice but he just screams all day and ages up into more of a terror.” 

Stiles doesn’t know what “out of options” means but it makes him feel sad, it reminds him of life before Daddy. He tugs Daddy’s arm and asks if he can go into the water now. 

Daddy gets in the water with him, holding him around the waist. Stiles plays with his mermaids, swooping them under the water and using Daddy’s arms and shoulders as coves and rocks for them to hide in. Danny and Jackson play too, Danny brings his new sea monster toy that tries to kidnap the mermaids. 

“Doris can turn into a dolphin, so she can sneak into the sea monster’s lair,” Jackson says. 

“Lance can come too, he can turn into a shark so he can bite the sea monster.” 

“Oh, I forgetted about Lance. Which one can sing magic songs?” 

“Illyria, but I don’t know if it works on sea monsters.” 

“She can come too but then swim away really fast if it doesn’t work,” Jackson says decisively. He’s a little bossy but that’s okay. “We need more people. Donovan, do you want to be Illyria?” 

Donovan scowls at them from his chair. “Mermaids are stupid.” 

Jackson’s face turns red, he always gets angry about things fast. “Mermaids aren’t stupid! _You’re_ stupid!” 

Donovan’s eyes narrow into slits. His voice drops, so he sounds almost like a big boy, and he speaks decisively. “Your Mommy and Daddy don’t really love you, they just kidnapped you and made you think they do.” 

His voice is low enough that Jordan won’t hear from where he’s having a conversation at the other end of the pool. Jackson’s mouth drops open and his eyes fill with tears. Stiles can’t believe it. Nobody is _ever_ supposed to say bad stuff like that! 

“That’s not true!” he shouts at Donovan. “Jackson’s Daddy says Jackson is the most special person in his life. All our Mommies and Daddies love us, _your_ Mommy loves you even though you’re _mean_.” 

“Okay, boys,” Daddy says as Donovan opens his mouth furiously. “That’s enough of that. No shouting. Jackson, don’t call people stupid. Donovan, don’t ever say something like that again. And Stiles…” Daddy bends down and gives him a kiss. “Good job standing up for your friend,” he murmurs. “But no shouting next time.” 

Stiles smiles and turns back to his mermaids. Donovan ignores them for the rest of the party. 

When Stiles doesn’t want to play with his mermaids anymore Daddy cannonballs him, throwing him up high into the air so he splashes down. Danny and Jackson make Daddy cannonball them too, but Stiles makes the biggest splash. Jordan gets in the water to help and it’s lots of fun, they compete to see who goes the highest. Stiles looks over to Donovan again to invite him, but now Peter is with him, Phoenix curled up with them. Donovan is smiling for once and Stiles gets a little jealous, but then Daddy picks him up to cannonball him again and he forgets to be upset. 

After a while Stiles gets chlorine in his eyes and Daddy takes him out to wipe them off. Then it’s time for presents. He gets lots of excellent presents, a Dora the Explorer doll that talks real words to him and a big toy dolphin he can take in the water and a magic kit from Uncle Peter with a real magician’s hat and everything. Everyone sings him happy birthday and Danny and Jackson give him special best-friend cards and he’s so happy he can’t stop swinging his feet. 

When the presents are all open the others go back into the pool, but Stiles is sleepy from playing so much, so Daddy wraps him in a towel and lets him doze off in Daddy’s arms. 

Only the pack goes on the picnic, since the babies have to go home for their naps. Stiles sits in his stroller while Daddy pushes him, sucking on one of his pacifiers. Phoenix is walking next to the stroller and Stiles can reach out to pat his head hello. 

At the picnic spot Uncle Isaac puts down a blanket and Aunt Kira unpacks lunch. Stiles doesn’t eat the grown-up food, but Daddy feeds him applesauce and sweet potato and some pudding for dessert, and then Aunt Kira feeds him a bottle. After he eats he makes a mess in his diaper. Aunt Kira offers to change him but Stiles gets fussy if anyone other than Daddy changes him in public. 

Daddy has a special mat for changes and Stiles lays down on it sucking his thumb. Aunt Erica and Uncle Boyd lie down with him and they look at clouds, pointing out what they look like, Stiles wins when he sees a cloud that looks just like a dragon. Then Daddy goes to find a trashcan and Uncle Liam lays down with him to make silly face. Uncle Liam hadn’t liked Stiles very much at first because he’d never lived in a werewolf community, so he’d thought Stiles was weird, but now they’re best friends just like everyone else in the pack. 

The sun goes down after a while. Stiles is very, very sleepy, but they still have to visit the Nemeton. This part is just for Daddy and Stiles, nobody else. He doesn’t want to go in his stroller so Daddy carries him, humming to Stiles under his breath. The woods are still scary at night but when Stiles hides his face in Daddy’s shoulder everything’s okay. 

“We’re here, pup,” Daddy whispers to him after a few minutes. Stiles cracks an eye open to see the Nemeton glowing green. He’s been to visit it a few times now and he always feels sort of shy in its presence. 

Daddy walks him up to the tree and whispers something under his breath, Stiles thinks it must be magic. He puts Stiles’ hand against the bark and Stiles gets a tingle all down his body. He’s flooded with all kinds of nice thoughts about how much he loves being Daddy’s baby boy and how he gets to be with Daddy forever, that’s the tree checking to make sure he really wants the magic. It feels sort of like the tree is sighing against him for a second, then the tinging stops. 

“All done,” Daddy says, stepping away from the tree. 

Stiles looks down at himself worriedly. “Do I look any different?” 

“No, pup, you look exactly the same. That’s the whole point, after all.” Daddy kisses him. “Happy birthday, my sweetest boy. Now, let’s go home.” 

Stiles ends up falling asleep on the way back. It’s okay. He knows Daddy will get him home safely. 

**Eight Months Later**

“I don’t want to go,” Stiles says stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“It’ll just be for a few hours, pup. I’ll be home before you know it.” 

“I want to stay with Scott.” 

“Scott’s coming with me.” 

“I want to stay with Uncle Isaac.” 

“You’re staying with Uncle Peter. End of discussion.” Daddy frowns at him. “You’re going to hurt Uncle Peter’s feelings if you keep this up. He loves you very much.” 

Stiles scowls. Uncles Peter _doesn’t_ love him very much, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten a baby of his own to love more than Stiles. Now Stiles isn’t even his special boy anymore, that’s _Donovan’s_ role. 

After Donovan’s last Mommy had finally decided she couldn’t keep him anymore Daddy had said that Donovan might have to go to another community, but then Uncle Peter surprised everyone by saying _he_ wanted to take the boy. Everyone thought it wouldn’t work out but Donovan is happy now and Uncle Peter absolutely loves him. 

Daddy packs up Stiles’ toys and carries him across the street to Uncle Peter’s house. Now that Uncle Peter has a baby his house is equipped with a changing table and extra bottles and everything, so he doesn’t have to come to Daddy’s house when he’s watching Stiles. Uncle Peter looks all smiley when he opens the door. Donovan is behind him, hanging on to his shirt. “Stiles! I’ve almost forgotten what you look like. Come on in.” 

Daddy passes Stiles over to Uncle Peter and kisses his forehead. “I’ll be home soon,” he promises. 

Stiles doesn’t answer, he’s mad at Daddy. When Daddy’s gone Uncle Peter carries Stiles into the living room. “We’re watching some Bill Nye,” he says as he puts Stiles down. 

“The Science Guy,” Donovan finishes as he plops down too. He’s much nicer now that he’s with Uncle Peter. 

“This episode is about volcanoes, so once it’s done we thought it might be nice to make a volcano together. We saved it for when you’d be here. How does that sound, buddy?” Uncle Peter musses his hair. He’s being too nice. 

“Okay,” Stiles mutters. 

“Okay!” Uncle Peter sits with them and Donovan climbs into his lap. He turns the TV on and smiles at Stiles, patting his leg. “I’ve got room for two, you know.” 

Stiles hesitates, then crawls into Uncle Peter’s lap so he’s all smooshed against Donovan. Donovan starts chanting along with the theme song and Uncle Peter does too. Stiles only ever really watches Dora or sometimes Thomas at home, but he’s seen Bill Nye a few times and likes him. It’s easy to get lost in the episode and forget that Uncle Peter doesn’t love him the most anymore. 

When the episode is over they go into the kitchen, where the volcano is all set up. “Daddy, can I pour in the lava?” Donovan asks excitedly as Uncle Peter measures some stuff out in a cup. 

“Why don’t you and Stiles do that together?” Uncle Peter hands the measuring cup to Stiles and puts him down so he’s sitting on the counter, then lifts up Donovan to join him. “One…two…three!” 

They pour it in and for a second nothing happens, then orange lava bubbles over the top of the volcano. Stiles shrieks with delight and returns Uncle Peter’s high-five without even thinking about it. Donovan gives him a hug, a huge smile on his face. “Daddy’s the best at doing fun experiments,” he says proudly. 

“Well, I learned it all from babysitting Stiles.” Uncle Peter smiles at him again. “Donovan, did you know that Stiles is the reason I adopted you? I love him so much that I felt sad when he wasn’t here, so I decided I should have a special little baby just like him so I didn’t have to miss him. But I was silly, turns out I _do_ still miss him when he’s not here. Both of you are my special boys.” 

He lifts Stiles from the counter and gives him a big hug. Stiles returns it, clinging to his uncle. He feels his hurt feelings start to go away. Uncle Peter still loves him, he just loves Donovan too. That’s okay. It’s like how Stiles loves Daddy the most, but he loves Uncle Peter lots and lots too. 

They have a snack and then Donovan and Stiles play while Uncle Peter does some work. Stiles is nervous at first to let Donovan play with his mermaids, but Donovan isn’t being mean at all and he lets Stiles play with his army men. They start to squabble eventually and Uncle Peter swoops in, giving them a 500-piece puzzle, which is bigger than Stiles has ever done before. “Why don’t you try this? 

It takes a long time to put the frame together, and soon both of them are yawning. Uncle Peter moves the puzzle to the table. “We’ll save this for the next time Stiles comes over. Naptime, boys.” 

For naptime Uncle Peter lays on the couch and Stiles and Donovan snuggle with him. Phoenix jumps up with them, curling at Peter’s feet. “There,” Uncle Peter says through a yawn. “Now we’re a proper puppy pile.” 

Stiles smiles and closes his eyes, matching his breath to Uncle Peter and Donovan. 

X 

Derek is a little wary as he approaches Peter’s house. Stiles had been in such a mood when Derek left that he half-expects to see Stiles in corner time and hear tales of a tantrum. 

Instead he sees Stiles and Donovan napping on Peter’s chest 

For a second Derek feels a little jealous himself. He knows Uncle Peter is the cool uncle, Stiles’ favorite baby-sitter, and sometimes it seems like Stiles likes spending time with Uncle Peter more than his daddy. At least when Stiles was annoyed with Peter he’d been clingy. 

Then Stiles snuffles awake and sees Derek. A grin splits his face and he raises his arms to be lifted. Derek picks him up, mouthing _thank you_ at Peter when he cracks his eyes open blearily. “Hi, Daddy,” Stiles yawns. “We going home?” 

“Uh-huh, sweetheart.” Derek carries him back across the street. He hasn’t woken up fully yet and when Derek tries to put him down he whines and grips Derek’s shirt. “Still sleepy, Daddy,” he whispers. 

“You know, pup, Daddy’s a little sleepy too. How about we nap together on the couch like you were doing with Uncle Peter?” 

Stiles smiles with his eyes closed and nods. Derek drops onto the couch and arranges Stiles on his chest, arms holding him tightly so he won’t roll off. Stiles goes back to sleep right away, head nuzzling unconsciously against Derek’s shoulder. Derek pets his head for a few minutes before drifting into sleep himself. 

**Six Months Later**

Today is going to be a special day. Scott and Kira have completed their training, received approval, paid their fees, and are adopting their baby today. Derek lent them his plane so they could get to the adoption facility and just received word that they’ve touched down. 

Stiles is handling the idea of another baby pretty well. After he’d freaked out over Donovan Derek had been worried, but as he’d told Derek seriously, Scott was his very best friend in the world, and him having a baby of his own wouldn’t change that. Even so, Derek figures giving him a little extra attention of his own can’t hurt, so today they’re going to the zoo. 

When he walks into the nursery to get the baby up, he realizes right away that there will be no trip to the zoo today. Stiles is curled into a ball, making little whimpers so quietly the baby monitor hadn’t picked them up. The room smells like a fever. 

“Oh, no,” Derek croons, reaching into the crib to lift him out gently. “Is my poor little baby sick?” 

Stiles mewls and rubs his head against Derek’s shoulder. “Hurts, Daddy!” 

“Oh, sweetheart. Your head?” 

He nods miserably. “Need Daddy’s magic touch.” 

Derek can’t take the pain from an illness, but he gently touches his lips to Stiles’ forehead. “There we go. All better. Daddy needs to take your temperature to see if we need to see the doctor.” 

Stiles hates both having his temperature read and going to the doctor, and his face crumples. “No, Daddy, no!” 

“Shh, no doctor unless we have to. But we need to take your temperature to know what medicine you need.” Derek strips him of his diaper and carries him downstairs for the baby thermometer and petroleum jelly. Stiles is always especially fussy when he’s sick and he wails when Derek takes his temperature. “Shh,” Derek whispers, a hand firmly planted on his back to keep him held down. “Almost done,” 

“No special ouchie medicine,” Stiles begs as Derek withdraws the thermometer. 

“We’ll see if you can keep the liquid medicine down.” Derek mixes liquid medicine with juice in a sippy cup and makes sure Stiles drinks it all. He puts on soft music and dims the lights in case Stiles has a headache, then rocks the baby back and forth in the hopes of lulling him into a healing rest. 

It seems to be a pretty simple low-grade fever, one they just have to wait out. Stiles drifts in and out of sleep, eventually waking up and shivering so badly his teeth chatter. “Warm bath,” he demands. “T-too cold, Daddy.” 

“Okay, baby.” Derek draws a hot bath for him. He’s worried that Stiles will still be too cold, so he strips off his own clothes and climbs into the bath with Stiles, resting the baby against his warm chest. 

“Daddy?” Stiles asks blearily. “Are we in a pool?” 

“Daddy wants to keep you warm, so we’re having a bath together.” 

Stiles makes a humming sound and relaxes against Derek. “Rub my tummy, Daddy.” 

Derek does, making gentle circles with a washcloth. Eventually Stiles falls asleep again, mouth wide open as he starts to snore. Derek gets out with him when the water starts to cool, wrapping him up quickly so the cool air won’t wake him. He grabs another dose of medication and carries the baby into his own bedroom. 

Stiles wakes up and yawns hugely, eyes still a little unfocused. He frowns at his surroundings. “Dada?” 

“Sick boys sleep in Daddy’s bed. Drink your juice, sweetheart.” 

Stiles drinks obediently, then lifts his arms to Derek. “You want to be picked up?” Derek asks, a little confused. 

“Cuddles, Dada.” 

“Okay, my little love.” Derek crawls into bed with him and holds him tightly. 

“Sing,” Stiles whispers, voice sick-breathy. 

Derek nuzzles against his hair. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray…you’ll never know dear, how much I love you…oh, please don’t take my sunshine away.” 

“‘Gain, Dada, ‘gain.” 

Derek sings it again, and then again, until Stiles is deeply asleep in his arms. He keeps the little boy cuddled tightly against him, periodically lowering his lips to check on his fever. Eventually his skin goes cool and he slumbers on, snuggled under Derek’s comforter and safe in his Daddy’s arms. 

X 

Stiles feels much better after he sleeps in Daddy’s bed, some of Daddy’s magic must rub off on the sheets. He always feels tired after being sick, though, and he makes Daddy hold him all through the next day so he can fall asleep in Daddy’s arms. 

Daddy takes his temperature again, he hates that but Daddy insists. “You’re all better,” Daddy tells him, giving him a kiss on his forehead to check. 

Stiles hums with happiness and snuggles in even tighter. “Okay. But I still have to sleep in your bed again tonight, Daddy.” 

“Oh? And why is that?” 

He likes sleeping in Daddy’s bed ever since he was a little baby in the bassinet, it’s nicer than his crib. “I might have nightmares.” 

“Oh, no.” There’s a smile in Daddy’s voice. “Well, we certainly don’t want that, do we? You can sleep in Daddy’s bed again tonight, pumpkin.” 

“Can I get an extra bedtime story?” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

“Thank you.” Stiles wants to fall asleep again, he loves falling asleep as Daddy holds him. “Sing me Sunshine again, Daddy.” 

Daddy kisses his forehead and starts to sing gently, rocking Stiles back and forth like they’re dancing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray…” 

**Three Weeks Later**

Stiles is so excited to meet the new baby. Daddy keeps reminding him that she won’t be any fun for a while because she’ll be so little, but someday, once she knows she’s a baby, she’ll be his best friend. 

Scott and Kira bring her to the next pack meeting. She’s in a baby carrier, one of those thick pacifiers in her mouth. She screams and screams behind it whenever anyone tries to hold her. Scott keeps calling her “my beautiful little princess” and looking at her all moony-eyed, it makes Stiles giggle. 

Eventually she’s so fussy Aunt Kira puts her carrier down on the floor, away from the others, and suggests they give her some time alone. The talk turns to grown-up things and Stiles crawls over to the new baby. She looks at him with desperation in her eyes, trying to babble behind her pacifier. He smiles at her and puts his arms around the carrier to give her a hug. 

“It’s okay,” he tells her gently. “I know everything’s so scary right now. I used to feel that way too. But my Daddy takes such good care of me, and yours will too. That’s your Daddy, he’s my Uncle Scott. He’s going to love you lots and lots and give you big kisses and bedtime stories. Someday when you’re bigger you can come play with my mermaids and meet _my_ Daddy.” 

As if he’s heard his name Daddy looks up and smiles at Stiles. Stiles smiles back before looking at the baby. “He’s the best Daddy in the world. And Uncle Scott is going to be an amazing Daddy too. Don’t be scared. Soon, you’re going to love it here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts open: http://gentlywithachainsawa03.tumblr.com/


End file.
